Skies of Arcadia: A Dark Destiny
by Nathan Lambes
Summary: The Sequel to Silver Skies: There are some things that should stay buried in the past. An old prophecy, some old faces, and a new generation are here the save the world of Arcadia... again... postponed until my computer's new hard-drive comes in...
1. Prologue

In the beginning there were the moons; seven of them in all, each watching their small portion of the small planet of Arcadia. For almost all of time there has been peace between them, each of them functioning almost as one. The gods of this planet had each joined their powers to create all life on the empty planet, bestowing the crowning achievement of their creation, Man, with a soul and a spirit. Little did they know that one day their pride would turn itself upon them. For even the gods of this world can die.  
  
Arcadia had just hit its golden years. One groups in particular; the Silvites under the silver moon had swept far past the others in terms of technology, knowledge, and the powers of their moon. The powers of the Silver moon being those of life and death itself, the Silvites took to bioengineering, most of their technology being, in some sense, alive.  
  
The Melanites, the people of the lost black moon, however, held the powers of the black moon. The power of the black moon was chaos. It turned positives to negatives, good things to bad things, power to weakness. And in this, laid their strength. The Silvites had guarded the secrets of flight from them, knowing that if they were ever set loose on the planet war was inevitable.  
  
War-like by nature, when they had finally escaped their continent, it had been to conquer all other lands. It was this war that spurned the others to create the Gigas. But all the power the Gigas had could not stand against the powers of the black moon. Their strength was turned to weakness. It was then decided that they would have to take out the source itself. The entire black moon had to be destroyed. It was Arcadia's only chance.  
  
And so Zelos was created, through an alliance of the free people's of Arcadia, each giving up their ultimate power, their moon crystals, to the Silvites with their promise that they would ride the world of the Melanities. And rid the world of them they did. For the first time, the rains of destruction were called down on the planet of Acadia. Zelos targeted the continent of Melosia and unleashed its full fury. The Melanite's own moon pelted down upon them, until there was nothing left of neither moon, nor continent, a swirling black rift left in its wake.  
  
For a time, the people of Arcadia rejoiced, their seemingly only threat now destroyed. The peace was short lived. Now that Soltis had gathered all six moon crystals, it was now the ultimate power on Arcadia and refused to give that up. Already war-weary, the Arcadian's united once more, only to have their homes bombarded by the Rains of their own moons, the judgment of Zelos swift and final.  
  
However, life goes on.  
  
******************************************  
  
"What's going on?"  
  
Celeste looked up at Ryne, her blonde hair in tangled masses around her face as if she'd rushed out of bed, and the billowy white nightgown that she wore seconded that thought. Her sharp grey eyes studying him for a moment then blinked when she shook her head.  
  
"Where have you been?"  
  
"Trying to get Jay a room in the Inn," He replied, shucking off his thick overcoat and throwing it to the deck, "I figured that she should be in something a little better than a ship cot."  
  
Ryne's head snapped over to his home when he heard what sounded like a muffled scream from the lit rear cabin.  
  
"Yeah, well, it's a little late for that." Celeste said, grabbing his wrist and pulling him along, "You're just in time for the fun part."  
  
Ryne wrenched free of Celeste's grip, outrunning her and a practically ripping the door to the rear cabin off its hinged. Inside he saw his laboring wife, her legs wide open and propped up, a white nightgown adorning her plumped figure, and a look of excruciating pain on her sweaty face. Ryne rushed to her side, taking her hand in his and wiping her face with his free hand.  
  
"How are you feeling?" He asked, his voice dripping with worry.  
  
"Like... I'm trying to shove a watermelon... through a bottleneck." She managed to say through her ragged breathing.  
  
"I've tried that before, it's rough, but it can be done." Ryne said, trying to lighten her up a bit and get her mind off the pain. Jay chuckled, her face relieved for a moment.  
  
"Remind me... never to do this again." She said, puffing her cheeks in a breathing exercise that one of the crewmember's wives had taught her. Her grip tightened around his hand, turning his fingers purple.  
  
"How much longer does she have to take this?" He half-yelled at Celeste who was watching for the new arrival.  
  
"Do I look like a midwife? How would I know?" She said coolly.  
  
"Well... do you... y'know..." Ryne stammered, uncomfortably. "See anything?"  
  
"Nothing out of the ordinary yet."  
  
Ryne kissed her hand and told her that everything was going to be alright as a harsh yell escaped her lips. Ryne was frustrated. Wild animals and pirates he could protect her from. This was something she had to take on all on her own... and seeing her in so much pain was tearing him up inside. If he'd of expected the baby to be born this soon, he would have made sure there was a midwife aboard.  
  
Ryne didn't know how much time passed that night. It seemed like an eternity of hell on earth listening to the screams of the woman he loved. Finally, her cries were joined by a new voice. Ryne felt Jaycera's grip loosen, and finally let go, exhausted. He looked up to the source of the new noise, and gazed in wonder as Celeste held up a child... his child.  
  
"It's a girl." She announced, drying and wrapping it in one of Ryne's shirts. She offered the bundle to Ryne, who took it with a look of awe in his face.  
  
He hadn't thought that he could love anyone as much as he loved Jaycera... but as he looked into those blue-green eyes, something inside him melted. He reached his right hand up to stroke her small cheek and was surprised to see her forehead give off a faint glow. Ryne shrugged it off, realizing he should have expected his Silvite heritage to come through.  
  
Ryne gently got up on the bed beside Jaycera, whose blue eyes shone through half-lidded eyes when she saw them. She was too weak to hold her new daughter however, so she contented herself with resting her head on Ryne's shoulder and gazing lovingly at their child. Slowly, she managed to reach up a hand to rub the wispy layer of white hair that adorned her pale head.  
  
"Welcome to the world, Selina..." She said before drifting to sleep. 


	2. Chapter 1: The Prophecy

Chapter 1 - The Prophesy  
  
One nation's hero is another one's doom. In the end, it is usually the victors who write the history and thus their adversaries are always portrayed as the evil ones. But what if the other side had won? Who then would history see as evil? In the end, it is not the actions of a nation that decide goodness of evil, but the perspective of the person writing down the history.  
  
In the Golden Age of Arcadia, just before the continent of Melosia was destroyed by the rains of destruction, the Melanites had just finished construction of their own Gigas. The Black Gigas was a thing of mystery, for few of the Melanites even knew of its existence, and most wouldn't have cared less anyway. They were fighting a war, thriving on the utter chaos of it all.  
  
****************************************  
  
"Selina!"  
  
The young white haired girl laughed, the sound carrying through the nearly empty streets of Maramba. She ran, not knowing why, with the reckless abandon of a four year old girl. Behind her trialed her mother, whose worry she could not see, and her aunt, both of whom she knew to be behind her for that was part of the game.  
  
Finally she came to the city gate, giving one glance at the dhabu stand, and turned around to lean on the gate innocently. She watched with her shining blue-green eyes as her mother and aunt nearly caught up with her, and grinned widely as she ducked under the gate into the desert. Her mother was close enough that she could hear her gasp of horror, knowing the danger of crossing the rift between the two sections of town on foot. This had been Selina's hope all along... to worry her mother.  
  
With an ease that was natural to her, she called upon the power of the blue moon, shielding herself from the harsh winds and heat, and ran as well as she could to the other gate, sliding underneath it. She knew it would take a while for her mother to catch up to her. She would have to ride a dhabu over... that and she was getting plump around the middle. Selina laughed again with the thought of her mother riding a dhabu with that round belly.  
  
She looked around the barren far half of the city of Maramba, and for a moment briefly forgot exactly why she had wanted to come here. Then she saw the dhabu that her father and his men had loaded up with various spices standing in front of the town tavern. She giggled and ran to the only other building in this part of town.  
  
It was a small building with open windows and long drapes that served as the door. There was a large ornate sign above the door, which looked rather interesting to her, though she could not yet read. It was then that she decided that this would make a perfect hiding spot. She ran into the building, huddling in the drapes and peeking through to keep an eye out for her mother.  
  
"Why have you entered here, child?"  
  
Selina screamed in a pitch only a child can hit, turning to face this new terror that presented itself. There she found an older woman, sitting in the middle of the room on a round, flat pillow, the folds of her dress embracing the large moon stone that lay in her lap. Her terror turned into curiosity at the sight of its red glow.  
  
"Wow..." She whispered in awe, "It's so pretty..."  
  
The older woman smiled, pushed up her rather large glasses further onto her nose, and held it out for the child to inspect. Selina walked over slowly, and then took it into her arms, her torso nearly disappearing behind it. She giggled as she looked through the stone, fascinated at how funny everything looked through it. The older woman smiled widely, until the inner glow of the moonstone flickered once, twice, then finally extinguished. Selina lowered it from her face, a disappointed look on her face. It was then that the woman discovered where her moonstone's energy had gone to...  
  
"By the red moon..."  
  
"Selina!"  
  
The white haired girl spun and launched herself at her mother, who'd just rushed in through the thin curtain, her curly hair frizzing out in every direction, making the girl laugh at the sight of her. Jaycera caught her daughter and hugged her for a moment, then held her at an arms length, her blue eyes boring straight into her daughter's.  
  
"Don't you EVER do that again, do you understand me." She said sternly, "I was worried sick!"  
  
"Oh, Mama..." Selina said, wrapping her small arms around her mother, "You don't need to worry. I can take care of myself now!"  
  
Jaycera sighed, rolled her eyes, and grinned slightly, "With a daughter like you, the day I stop worrying is the day I die worrying." Then she noticed the bright red glow between her eyes brows, "Where did you find a moonstone?"  
  
At about that moment another head found its way in to the small building.  
  
"Jay... Selina?" Ryne asked, poking his head in through the curtain, "I heard a scream from the tavern and heard your voices so I..." he paused for a moment, noticing the forgotten first occupant of the room, "...Kalifa?..."  
  
The older woman smiled, motioning for him to come in the rest of the way.  
  
"By the Red Moon, Ryne." The fortune teller exclaimed, "I didn't even see you coming."  
  
Ryne smiled wryly, "Oh you know you were never that good of a seer, Kalifa." He teased, "The only right prediction you ever gave me was what I'd had for breakfast in the morning, and I think that was because I was usually wearing some of it on my shirt."  
  
The woman smiled and pushed her glasses back on her nose, "Eggs, sausage, and some fried grouper."  
  
Ryne cocked an eyebrow, looked down at his shirt, then back at Kalifa.  
  
"...And you still have a knack for it I see."  
  
"The moons work in strange and mysterious ways..." she said in her grand, fortune teller way.  
  
Ryne looked down at the large red moonstone that set in her lap, now lifeless and dull.  
  
"What happened to your moonstone?" He asked, looking back suspiciously at his daughter. The small girl was standing beside her mother, both hands covering over the silver moonstone in her forehead, but neither able to contain the bright light that still peeked through.  
  
"Selina..." Ryne sighed, kneeling in front of his daughter, moving her hands, then placing his right hand on her forehead. The larger crystal in his hand absorbed all of the energy that his daughter had sucked out of the red moonstone, the red glow now pulsating from his right hand.  
  
"Can I see your stone?" He asked his father's old seer, who handed it over to him. With a technique he'd developed over the years, mostly due to his daughter absorbing unwanted energy, he transferred the power back into the stone, then handed it over to Kalifa. "There, that should do it."  
  
Kalifa inspected the stone, her astonishment apparent. She spun and tossed it into the air, waving her arms around it in a familiar way, the large stone hovering and spinning at a speed to fast for his eyes to follow. After a while she stopped, the stone falling into her lap gently. Her breathing was ragged and deep, worrying Ryne. He'd seen her many times as a child, but he'd never seen her like this after a reading.  
  
"Ryne." She said between breaths, "Can I... speak to you alone... for a moment?"  
  
Ryne shrugged and nodded at Jay, who picked up their small daughter and walked out through the flap. Kalifa watched them through her thick glasses and waited for the sound of a dhabu and an opening gate before she started.  
  
"Ryne," She started, taking off her glasses and looking his full in the eyes, "The Red Moon has sent me a vision."  
  
Ryne looked at her for a moment quizzically, then pulled up a mat and sat down across from her. "What kind of vision, and what does it have to do with me?"  
  
"I saw your daughter, though not as a child, but as the woman she will become. Her eyes were of fire, and she was dressed in all black, commanding the armies of chaos and darkness. I saw the world under her heel, and then nothingness."  
  
Ryne looked at her hard, a cold anger rising in him, "If this is your idea of a joke, Kalifa..."  
  
"This is not a joke boy!" Kalifa yelled, surprising Ryne with it's ferocity, "Even you know of the prophesy of old! Your child bears the mark! The mark of our destroyer!"  
  
Ryne laughed and stood up, walking toward the door flap.  
  
"I don't have time for any more of your fairy stories, old Seer."  
  
"If you forsake her destiny then we are all condemned."  
  
Ryne pulled back the door flap, then stopped, leaned on door jamb and looked back at his old friend, "I hardly believe in destiny anymore, Kalifa."  
  
"Destiny doesn't care if you believe in it... it drags you along anyway."  
  
Ryne sighed and leaned his head against the door jamb, "What about my wife's pregnancy? Did you see anything about that?"  
  
Kalifa sighed and fingered her stone for a moment. "Twins... twin boys."  
  
"Thanks." Ryne said, and with that he walked out of the fortune teller's home.  
  
*****************************************  
  
"What did she have to say?"  
  
Ryne snapped out of the self induced thought trace he'd put himself in, his dhabu rocking steadily underneath him.  
  
"What?" He asked, looking over at his wife, who was walking her dhabu aside his as he walked it down to where their ship was docked.  
  
"The old Seer, what did she have to tell you that was so important?"  
  
Ryne studied her for a moment, then fixed his eyes on her rounded stomach.  
  
"Twins... we're going to have twin boys." Was all he told her.  
  
********************************  
  
In the Golden Age of Arcadia there was a Seer. The oldest of the Silvites, he had been aged already when his people had discovered how to alter their own genetics and have their bodies produce the Silver Moon crystals within them. He had even been one of the first to undergo the procedure, granting him near immortality. But his crystal had not formed in the hand as most of those who underwent the alteration had. It had formed in the middle of his forehead, expanding his mental capacity greatly. It was then that he gained the ability to see the future.  
  
The day that Melosia was destroyed he had a great and terrible vision.  
  
"...the sword of the Black Moon will rise again, the last Silvite bearing my mark at its hilt..."  
  
The rest of the Silvites branded this treason and heresy and left him on the continent of Soltis when they sunk it into deep sky... 


	3. Chapter 2 If you Love Something, Let it ...

Chapter 2 - If You Love Something, Let it Go...  
  
Selina lay out on the grass, relishing the cool feeling of the morning dew on her back as the sun lazily made its ascent into the sky, cutting through the thick fog to warm her soft features with its light. Dimly she could see the broken moon above as well, casting its own internal light, whispering of past glory, its power over life and death far diminished from its past hold.  
  
"Sela!"  
  
"Hey, Lina!"  
  
Selina sighed and rolled over onto her stomach, watching as her two brothers ran up to her, wide smiled covering their identical teenage faces. They were a stunning contrast to their sister, physically different in almost every way possible. While Selina had curly white hair, and stunning blue-green eyes, the twins had jet black hair like their mother, and deep brown eyes. The only thing that gave away the fact of their relation was their smiles and expressions.  
  
"Why do you two always have to ruin the good moments...?" Selina said, resting her head on her arm. "Have you guys ever heard of 'peace' and 'quiet'?"  
  
Their smiles widened as they plopped down on the ground next to her, one on each side, laying flat with their hands behind their heads.  
  
"Heard of them..."  
  
"...Never believed in them."  
  
Selina sighed and turned over to lie on her back once more, trying to keep on enjoying her morning.  
  
"You guys really freak me out when you do that 'finish each other's sentences' thing"  
  
"You've been around us for sixteen years now..."  
  
"...and you're not used to it yet."  
  
At the same time, both of them leaned up on their elbow, looked at one another, and laughed.  
  
"I should have moved out long ago..." Selina grumbled, pursing her lips and getting up. "Thanks for ruining my morning's solitude..."  
  
"Selina! Leos! Aerin! Breakfast is on the table!  
  
"Ten gold says its biscuits and gravy again." Leos said, sighing.  
  
Aerin wrinkled his nose in distaste. "I hate biscuits and gravy..."  
  
"Oh suck it up you babies." Selina said, turning a heading toward their home.  
  
"Easy for you to say, Sela. You love biscuits and gravy." Leos said, jumping to his feet with an energy that no normal person should have in the morning. Aerin, who was always more of a night owl, stayed for a moment longer, shoving himself slowly off of the ground.  
  
"Lina likes to eat everything Leos, you know that."  
  
Selina glared daggers at her younger brother, darning him to say another comment like that... even though it was true. Ever since she was little she'd loved to eat... not that she was overweight or anything, she just loved the flavors. There was hardly a thing of the planet of Arcadia that she had a distaste for. Still, it was a trait that she wasn't particularly proud of, especially since she could eat most men her age under the table.  
  
"Oh c'mon sis, don't be like that. You're a beautiful pig!"  
  
And with that comment, Selina tackled her younger brother into the cobblestone path, and started pounding the snot out of him.  
  
"Ouch! Lina!" He protested, waving his limbs wildly to fend her off, "Stop it!" and with that he threw all of his weight up and they started rolling across the ground, punches flying. Unfortunately, they'd just so happened to roll past their waiting mother, who was standing in the doorway, her arms crossed across her chest. She stopped their rolling with her leg.  
  
"Selina!" she scolded, "When are you going to learn to act like a lady?"  
  
"I wouldn't want to take Aerin's place..." She grumbled, glaring at her brother, whose smirk faded.  
  
"Enough..." He mother sighed, turning and walking into the house. Selina got off the ground and followed. "Lina, you're twenty years old... how do you expect to find a husband when half the men on the planet are scared to death of you?"  
  
Selina sighed, and sat down at the table, shoving a fork into a biscuit and putting it on her plate.  
  
"Most normal people don't get married under twenty two at least, Mom." She said, pouring some sausage gravy over her biscuit as the twins came and sat down at the table next to each other. "Just cause you got married at seventeen doesn't mean you have to rush to marry me off now..."  
  
"I'm not rushing you, it's just that..." Jaycera brought a pan full of scrambled eggs to the table and set of down in front of Leos, "Your father and I are just worried that we might have to kick you out soon..."  
  
"Kick me out?!" Selina exclaimed, forgetting the food that was in front of her, "That's a little harsh don't you think?"  
  
"Selina, you're an adult now and you've never even been out on your own." Jaycera said, sadly, but with warmth only a mother can muster at times like this. "We just think that maybe it's time you grew up..."  
  
"I'll second that thought!" Aerin piped up, raising his egg filled fork. Selina glared at him once again.  
  
"Stay out of it, twerp." She shot back, threatening him with her butter knife.  
  
"Aerin, stop provoking your sister." Jaycera said, putting an air of finality in her words, then addressing her daughter again, "In any case, you're going to be going with your father on his next run whenever he decides to come home."  
  
Now that thought intrigued her. She loved her father more than anyone or anything in the world, and the thought of being able to see him all the time thrilled her. Well... maybe the fact that his first mate Jeyr was incredibly handsome didn't hurt either... Just the thought of his baby face and chiseled features set her heart aflutter. Add those beautiful golden locks, laughing hazel eyes, and joyous personality and there wouldn't be a girl alive who could resist his charms.  
  
"Sela, are you listening to me anymore?"  
  
Selina shook her head, snapping out of thoughts. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"  
  
"Your eyes are glazed over, Sela..." Leos said, looking at her with a cocked head.  
  
"I think she's drooling too." His twin brother added.  
  
Selina chose to ignore the jibes of her brothers, her mood greatly lightened. She poked at what was left of her biscuits, shoving what was left into her mouth and swallowing in one large gulp.  
  
"Well, I guess I should pack up my things then."  
  
"Selina..." Jaycera sighed, stopping her cleaning of the kitchen to catch her full in the eyes. "Please don't treat this like it's some kind of glorified camping trip. You're going to be working on the ship, not just running around like the cabin brat..."  
  
"Mom, you know I've always done my share when I'm on the ship."  
  
"I know..." her mother said softly, "But you always came home after a week or so. After today, your home is officially the Last Heir. And from now on Ryne's not your father... he's your captain. You won't be getting any special treatment. You'll simply be part of the crew."  
  
****************************************  
  
Selina looked at the mountain of clothes piled upon her bed, remembering with a grimace that technically it wasn't even her bed anymore. Leos had already laid claim on it, and had in fact been moving some of his things in here already. Sighing, she picked up a duffel bag and started shoving things into it unceremoniously.  
  
She didn't know whether to be excited or scared, or both at the same time. She was excited that she was going to be spending so much time with her father, but was terrified of how much freedom she now had. She knew that was one thing that should excite her the most, but somehow, it just didn't appeal to her.  
  
**********************************************  
  
"Good morning, beautiful."  
  
Jaycera stirred, somewhere in the stage between sleep and awake, her mind working furiously to try to decipher what the voice had said, and who said it. Finally, she worked up the energy to roll onto her back and open her eyes slowly, meeting to emerald gaze of her husband. All ties to the world of dreams were cast aside as she sat upright and pulled Ryne into a fierce embrace, pressing her lips against his hungrily. She broke it as abruptly as it had started, searching him with her ice blue eyes.  
  
"How long have you been sitting there?" She asked suspiciously. Ryne grinned and tossed off the bandana that kept his unruly white hair from falling in his face.  
  
"Oh, we got back about an hour or two ago, and I've been sitting here ever since." He ran a hand through his hair, giving up when his fingers got stuck in the tangles. "Did you know you do this cute flapping thing with your lip when you exhale...?"  
  
Jaycera leaned up and tugged on the small amount of white hair he'd allowed to grow on his chin, "Don't even get me started on how 'cute' your snoring is." Her nostrils flared for a moment, now that she was this close to him, "You smell like sweat and cologne."  
  
"Let's just say I'm been taking what you call 'Nasrulian bathes'"  
  
"In other words, you've been drowning yourself in pretty perfumes."  
  
Ryne grimaced, "I really need to check into getting the Heir equipped with bathes. Especially since Sela's going to be joining us for a while." With the mention of her only daughter, Jaycera's eyes lost their spark, taking on a saddened look. She sighed and leaned back against the headboard of their bed, setting her arms at her sides, the sleeves of her billowy nightgown crumpling under them.  
  
"Are you sure you still want to go through with this, Ry?"  
  
Ryne's eyes softened as he took one of her hands into his, rubbing it reassuringly, "There's nothing else we can do, Jay. She has to leave home someday. She'll never grow up if she doesn't."  
  
"I still don't like the idea of leaving her in Nasrad all alone."  
  
Ryne scooted over to the top of the bed, leaning against the head board and stretching his legs over the length of the bed. Jay led her head fall to his chest, and then held him tight round the middle.  
  
"We made it through worse, didn't we?" He asked, started to stroke her hair affectionately. "Trust me; this is the way it has to be."  
  
*****************************************  
  
Selina threw her pack on her assigned bunk, whose previous occupant had left it in a state of disarray. From the look of it, she had been a large woman, her imprint forever left in the springs. Sela shook her head as she threw a sheet over top of the mattress, not even wanting to think about what it must smell like...  
  
"I see you got Yelana's bunk."  
  
Selina spun to find the source of the voice, a small gasp escaping her lips. An older woman of about forty found her gaze. She was petite, though looked as though she carried more strength that her size belied. Her grey eyes caught her own, and a smile tugged at the corner of the woman's mouth.  
  
"Good woman," She said, the smile turning into a sly grin, "loved her food though. You might want to check your mattress for decayed snacks and vermin."  
  
"Are you trying to scare me Celeste, or are you telling the truth?" Selina asked suspiciously, never knowing what to expect from the odd little woman.  
  
"I've heard it said that it's always best to air of the side of caution, m'lady." And with those cryptic words, the longtime friend of her parents disappeared.  
  
Selina bit her lip and followed her lead onto the deck of the ship, where the crew would say their goodbyes. There she found her mother and two brothers, standing near the main mast, watching her as she strode slowly up to them. She could see the pained expression on her mother's face as she fought back tears that were inevitable. Leos and Aerin stood on opposite sides of their mother, goofy smiles on their faces.  
  
"Well guys, I guess this is goodbye." She said, forcing a smile on her face for her mother's sake.  
  
"Yeah, well... don't get eaten by loopers or anything..." Aerin said, towering over her smaller frame as he gathered her into one of his rare shows of affection.  
  
"Thanks for the room." Leos said, next in line, "Now I don't have to live with this slob anymore."  
  
Selina laughed and gathered her younger brother into her arms. Last was Jaycera, who walked slowly over to her only daughter, then threw her arms around her in an embrace that seemed to never end. Selina hugged her, rubbing her back softly.  
  
"Jeez Mom, it's not like you're never going to see me again. I'll probably be back in a week."  
  
Jaycera held her daughter at arms length, examining her for a moment, then wiped the tears that were blurring her vision. "I hope you understand..." she said softly, not able to meet her eyes anymore. "C'mon boys... we're holding up the rest of the crew."  
  
"Yeah, c'mon Leos, let's go find Rachel."  
  
"She's back?"  
  
"Duh dummy, Celeste works on THIS ship."  
  
"Oh... right..."  
  
Selina watched as her family walked down the gangplank, their bodies disappearing until finally their heads sank below view. For a moment she wondered what her mother meant. It wasn't like she was going to be away for very long, and she'd certainly been gone just as long before on visits to her grandfather and such. Why was she all worked up now? "Hey Selina," a voice called from behind her, "Welcome to the Last Heir."  
  
Selina smiled brightly and turned on her heel to face the young man standing behind her. His roguish grin was no turned on her as he tousled her long curly hair. She beamed at him and held her arms behind her back.  
  
"Why hello, Jeyr."  
  
Jeyr showed every one of his perfect teeth, "So, you're finally getting off this rock and into the skies, eh?" He commented, folding his arms across his broad chest and cocking his head slightly.  
  
"Yeah, I figured I'd about worn out my welcome at home." Selina said, stretching the truth slightly.  
  
"That's funny; I heard that you finally got kicked out..." Jeyr said slyly, calling her bluff.  
  
"Well, you can't believe everything you hear." Selina recovered, punching him lightly on the arm and walking away, not wanting her father to see her wasting time when she should be helping to prepare the ship.  
  
Her station was that of a deckhand, which meant that she pretty much had to do a little of everything, and right now that meant helping check the ropes for tangles, knots, and frays. It wasn't overly difficult, though she had to do a lot of climbing. But was extremely time consuming and not the most exciting work. However, her father had told her many times that it was crucial to know the ropes, and had stressed just how much a sailor depended on them. She'd questioned why he didn't just upgrade to a faster, propelled ship, which were easier to crew and run and were gradually taking over the skies of Arcadia. He'd simply smiled and told her he'd never trusted Valuan engineering.  
  
She walked confidently down the mast, erecting a wind shield unconsciously so that she could keep her balance in the gales that swept through this region of mid-ocean. She checked the various ropes around the main mast, tugging on them to test their strength and checking for anything else out of the ordinary. After what seemed like an eternity, she slid down one of the riggings, her thick leather gloves protecting her from burning her skin.  
  
From there she joined the line of crewman who were hoisting the main sail, felling the ship lurch as the strong wind filled it. The line stumbled slightly as the rope tightened, but many of them were skilled sailors, and used to such things. Finally there were at full sail and on their way to Nasrad at top speed.  
  
***************************************  
  
"So, she's finally left her sanctuary."  
  
A man with hair so dark it could almost be a shade of blue sighed and opened his eyes and unfolded his sleeping legs, which had been crossed in a mediation stance. He stood unsteadily, rocking for a moment to get the blood flowing back into them.  
  
In appearance, he looked to be in his early twenties, his face still teetering on the cusp on full maturity. It was his eyes that belied an age that was far greater and unfathomable to anyone unfortunate to lose themselves in their oily dark depths. His hair was short and neat, save for the short ponytail on the nape of his neck, which he fiddled with in his frustration.  
  
Now that she'd left the island, her existence would become known, and her destiny revealed. She was the last Silvite, for her brothers had not received the moon crystal, and she bore the mark of the Seer no less. Any fool with a smattering of knowledge of the prophecies of the old world would know who this girl was, and what she was to become.  
  
He stepped out of his dome like shrine into the massive darkness, a sleek ship awaiting his departure hovering noiselessly. He jumped over the side and worked the controls, a light humming noise now audible.  
  
This girl was going to need someone to watch her back if she ever hoped to survive in the real world...  
  
******************************  
  
Selina stood looking at the gates of Nasrad, a sack of spices in one hand, and a sack full of gold in the other. Her father had given her very specific instructions to take it to the hotel, and ask for a night in the inn and leave her stuff there, though the amount of money he'd given her seemed a bit like overkill and she didn't understand why she was getting a room at the inn at all. Still, she didn't question her captain's orders.  
  
She pushed the gates open and took an almost immediate left to the large inn that had been a firmly rooted establishment ever since the Crystal Wars. She shoved open the door, set the spices down on the check in table, leaning on the surface with one elbow.  
  
"Delasari Shipping company," She said, reciting her line, "I got about ten pounds of various Yafutoman spices."  
  
The girl behind the counter, who looked even younger than she was, was a little taken aback by her brash manners and appearance. She looked every bit the model of an air pirate, with her blue sweatband and short blue vest, worn over top of a form fitting white shirt that accented her hair. The shirt disappeared into blue skirt that was held up by a rather large brown leather belt. The skirt itself was odd in that it was long and split in the back, but only came up to just above her knees in the front.  
  
The girl bit her lip uncomfortably, "Umm... can I help you?" she asked in a musical voice. Selina furrowed her brow and cocked her head in confusion.  
  
"I'm supposed to make a drop off here." She said, trying to sound confident.  
  
"I'm sorry... you must have a mistake." The girl replied, rubbing her left arm. "We don't even serve food here."  
  
Selina's head reeled. Her father had given her very specific instructions... this had to be the place. She'd even written it down, and was looking it over once again now.  
  
She sighed and got out her money pouch. Her father must have just made a mistake about the drop off, but she knew she figured that he probably still wanted the room.  
  
"How much for a room then?" she asked the girl, untying the knot around the lip of the leather pouch.  
  
"It's one hundred gold for a night."  
  
Selina counted out ten larger pieces of gold and set them down on the counter, the girl scooping them into her small hands and pouring them into a large pouch of her own.  
  
"Watch this stuff, would ya?" Selina asked casually, taking out one gold piece and flipping it to her.  
  
"Uh... sure." The girl said, pocketing the piece for herself. Selina shoved open the door and ran into the busy streets of Nasrad again, the gates well within sight.  
  
Her father had made a mistake. He had to of.  
  
*********************************  
  
Ryne leaned against the small one man lifeboat, his arms crossed across his dirty white overcoat. He reached down to his belt and pulled up a small flask of water, wiping his brow and sipping from it to wet his dry mouth. He'd never understand just why anyone would want to live in the moons forsaken land.  
  
Finally he saw who was looking for, her white hair unmistakable, her soft features eerily like her mother's. He watched as she spotted him then ran up to him with a perplexed look on her face. When she reached the dock she slowed down, staring at the empty spot where the Last Heir had once been which was now occupied by Ryne's small life raft.  
  
"Captain...?" she asked, standing directly in front of him her blue-green eyes searching his green for answers.  
  
"Call me Dad, Lina."  
  
"I don't get it..." she stammered, looking again at the one man raft, "Where's the ship...?"  
  
Ryne clasped his eldest daughter's shoulders in his hands, studying her for a moment, as if sizing her up. Then he pulled her into a tight embrace that took her totally by surprise.  
  
"I love you Selina." He whispered into her ear, filling his daughter with a dark sense of foreboding. "I hope you understand..."  
  
Selina pushed forcibly from her father's grip, staring at him with a look of unbelief, fear, and rising anger. "What are you talking about, Dad...?"  
  
Her father sighed, and tried to averted her gaze. "You're not coming with me Selina..." he said, his voice threatening to break, "You're staying here in Nasrad... alone."  
  
With those words Selina stared hard at her father, searching for any sign that this might just be a cruel joke. When no smile graced her father's face, she backed away even more.  
  
"I'm sorry, Selina"  
  
And with that, Selina turned and ran, not caring where she went.  
  
Ryne sighed and hopped into his small craft, his face showing no emotion except for the small tear running down his face.  
  
*****************************************  
  
In Valua there had always been an expansive library, complete with the history of the old world of Arcadia. In these libraries there is a man who is bent over a book of prophesy, searching for answers... 


	4. Chapter 3: The Sword and the Storm

Chapter 3 - The Sword and the Storm  
  
Selina walked through the streets of Nasrad, a pack of dirty clothes hefted over her shoulder, bouncing with ever stride she took. There were many launderers in town, as clothing didn't generally stay all that clean in middle of a desert, especially when sandstorms kicked in out of nowhere. And for the past couple of weeks, they'd been almost unbearable, and never ending. She hadn't seen the light of the sun or moon in a week because of the sand suspended in the air. Her landlord had likened this to monsoon season in the Ixa'Takan jungles, except less wet. There was about three inches of sand covering the usually clean streets and though the fight was pointless, the cleaners hired by the Nasultan worked at it tirelessly.  
  
She walked into the laundry house, the chime of a bell announcing her arrival to a dark, middle aged woman with a round friendly face. She carried herself like a long-time mother, with confidence and authority, and Selina smiled at the large woman who grinned at her with a sidelong glance as if she had been expected.  
  
"I was wondering when you were going to show." She said, as Selina set her pack on the counter. "You didn't seem like the kind of woman who could stand all the grit."  
  
Selina shook her head and smiled, "I'm more at odds with the heat than the sand." She said, pointing out the dampness of her current clothing. "Give me Glacia any day. There's only so much you can take off."  
  
The woman laughed and hefted the laundry bag into a nearby cart. "Well, maybe you should consider a career in dancing. Lack of clothing is encouraged." The launderer suggested, looking her over. "You certainly have the figure for it, and your look is something of exotic around here."  
  
Selina shrugged, noncommittal. She had to admit that it had crossed her mind a couple of times. With her white hair and pale complexion she was something of a standout among the tanned Nasrians. And she'd seen the standard of living of a couple and knew that they made loads of gold. She was incredibly tempted by the prospect, but in the end she knew that she could never stand to be ogled by men all day, even if the pay was wonderful.  
  
"What kind of girl do you take me for, Cathe?"  
  
"A poor one."  
  
"Maybe, but the poor still have their ethics."  
  
"And that's all they'll ever have too." She chuckled, wheeling the cart through a pair of double doors and into the backroom.  
  
"Shut up and get to your laundry." Selina jibed playfully, turning on her heel and walking out of the wash house. Hers was a deliberate stride, powering single mindedly toward one goal. In this case, that goal was work.  
  
For the past two months she'd been working for this eccentric man who was studying the effects that the moons had on native fauna, loopers in particular. She was a lab assistant of sorts, and he found her proficiency with both magic and weapons to be particularly helpful in capturing the slippery creatures. It was an ideal job to her though, for she got paid for what came naturally to her, and took out some annoying pests in the process. However, with the coming of sandstorm season she hadn't been able to take out their small skiff and find any more specimens, so there'd been little for her to do, which also meant less pay. Lately she'd been considering finding a more stable job, since she was beginning to run behind on her rent, but she didn't think she'd be able to stand an average occupation.  
  
For weeks now she'd been considering finding a lift to her grandfather's home of Crescent Isle and maybe begging for a job somewhere on the Phoenix, but something told her that he was in on this whole "growing up" ploy with her father. He had to know about it at least. Her father and grandfather were close, and she knew that he would have told him. But that didn't mean that Vyse would have agreed with it, which gave her some glimmer of hope.  
  
Finally she arrived at the laboratory. Actually, it was technically his apartment, but it was filled to the brim with tubes, glasses, and instruments, most of which she couldn't figure out the use of. Everywhere she looked she could see looper bodies of six colors, floating in formaldehyde. The whole place gave her the creeps, and she much preferred sailing the desert skies in search of trouble.  
  
"Why aren't you an air pirate?"  
  
Selina turned to see Markos, his eyes hidden behind a pair of goggles, which were focused in on a partially dissected, red skinned looper. She suppressed a grimace and the urge to vomit. This was a rather common sight to her now; she shouldn't be feeling like this...  
  
...Wait a second... Did he just read her mind?  
  
"What did you say?"  
  
"Why aren't you an air pirate?"  
  
She looked at him suspiciously, "Why would you say something like that?"  
  
Markos pushed his goggles up out his face, rubbing his eyes for a moment before looking at her with blue eyes so dark they reminded her of the ocean at midnight. He tried to run a hand through his unruly hair, but gave up after a moment. A couple months ago it had been short and neat, but his hair grew out alarmingly fast.  
  
"I was just thinking about how lab work doesn't really suit you. You really should find berth on a Rouge ship. Then you chase all the monsters you want."  
  
Selina studied the young man for a moment, not thoroughly satisfied with his answer. She pushed the feeling aside. Her brothers had done this sort of thing all the time, but somehow it just felt wrong coming from Markos.  
  
He was an unsettling man altogether. With his dark hair and eyes, and quiet, reserved manner, he seemed almost sinister. At times she could almost swear he butchered loopers simply for the carnage of it. Some of the carcasses she'd had to discard for him seemed more to be ruthlessly murdered rather than dissected. But he'd always treated her kindly, and always seemed to know what to say in any situation; even though it was through a thick accent she couldn't place for the life of her. And those eyes... those eyes so deep they seemed to draw in light itself, never to escape their depths. He was oddly attractive in a sense, though that was probably because he was so unlike anyone she'd ever seen... a look that was almost the antithesis of her own.  
  
"Are you trying to get rid of me Markos?" she asked, grinning slightly.  
  
"Oh, I would never dream of it m'dear." Markos replied snapping his goggles on and returning his attentions back to the insides of the looper. "Now could you pass me those red moon stone shards?"  
  
Selina obliged and watched him work for a while as he carefully cut open the ring until she couldn't stand it anymore and turned her head to watch a bubbling red liquid which was boiling over a small flame.  
  
"Could you turn the heat up a notch on that, while you're watching it?" He asked, never taking his eyes from his work. Selina did as she was asked, turning the lamp up one level higher.  
  
It had been about four months since her father had dropped her off in this moons forsaken land, and she saw no way off the rock short of joining up with the Nasrian Navel Fleet or stowing away on a merchant vessel. She knew this was some kind of life lesson, but she wasn't enjoying it one bit. She mostly hated the not knowing, every week being unsure if she was going to pull off paying the rent while keeping herself fed as well. And that wasn't even taking her laundry bill into account...  
  
"I hear the storms are abating tomorrow." Markos said conversationally.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"The storms," He repeated, "They say they're relenting their incessant assault on the city tomorrow."  
  
"Oh... yeah," She replied, a little taken aback by his sudden urge to talk, "Riana told me this morning that she could see the sun through the grit, and that was always a good sign."  
  
Markos nodded, still totally enamored in his dissection.  
  
************************************************  
  
"...The history of our planet is a strange and wondrous thing. For example, the basis of our religion teaches us that our gods, the moons, created humanity and formed the face of the planet, using their powers to create the floating continents we call home. Most scientists today however, reject this form of thinking for something that denies the godship of the moons altogether, instead stating that all life is the result of a 'primordial ooze' of one celled animals which adapted into more and more complex animals. Thus, humanity was born. What is this theory? Anyone?"  
  
A male student in the back row raised his hand timidly, the professor pointing and nodding at him with a quick "Go ahead."  
  
"That would be the Evolutionary Theory, Professor Enyan."  
  
"That is correct, young sir." Enyan exclaimed, nodding curtly. "And would you say that you agree or disagree with this concept?"  
  
"I disagree."  
  
A small smile split Enyan's face as he clapped slowly for his student, looking at the boy over the top of his wire rim glasses.  
  
"Congratulations... you have half a brain. The evolutionary theory is total bunk, and can anyone tell me why?"  
  
A small, pretty girl in the middle of the class raised her arm high and proud and Enyan jabbed his finger in her direction, allowing her to speak.  
  
"Because it doesn't account for the fact that humanity had no means of traveling the skies, yet humans have lived on all the continents for all of history."  
  
"Very good! Anyone else?"  
  
"It can't explain supernatural phenomena, such as magic," Answered the girl next to the first.  
  
"Excellent! Both are very valid points!"  
  
"Excuse me Professor," a thin young man from the front row interrupted, his hand half-raised, "But what does this have to with Prophecy?"  
  
"Everything." Enyan answered, crossing the room to stand directly in front of him, plating his hands on his desk, "We cannot begin to decipher the prophecies of the old world in the right frame of mind unless we believe wholeheartedly in their validity. If our religion is a lie, then they are as well. I am merely building a foundation for you to stand on."  
  
The boy looked puzzled for a moment, but a bell sounded soon afterward, and his thoughts shifted as he packed up his books and make for the doorway.  
  
"Don't forget! Your homework is the read the first chapter of Understanding Prophecy and come to class with three discussion questions!" Enyan yelled after them, though they already knew.  
  
He watched as they exited the classroom, then plopped down in his rolling wooden chair, exhausted. He pushed his wire rim glasses further up upon his nose before beginning to pack his own things into a large, leather shoulder bag. He haphazardly threw in his cocked bottle of ink, but wiped his quill on a scrap paper before anchoring behind his ear. He took the most care over his papers, dividing them into separate folders and sections of his bag. He was too close to lose everything now...  
  
"Evening Professor Enyan."  
  
The young professor nearly dropped his bag. He turned around to see the man who'd startled him so.  
  
"Ah, Professor Stalde, what brings you to my classroom?"  
  
The young professor Jonathon Stalde leaned his tall, well built frame against the door jamb. He was the mid aged professor of Old World History at the Imperial Academy, and their subject coincided often. His blonde hair was neatly combed back out of his brilliant blue eyes, his clothing crisp and neatly pressed. He wore a crooked smile as he took a bite out of an apple which had been concealed behind his back a moment ago.  
  
"Oh, just the usual information barter."  
  
Enyan smiled and rolled hazel eyes. "It's not barter when you have nothing I want."  
  
Lately the older professor had been coming to him with odd questions about the last prophecy of the Seer. It was a topic that he himself had been researching for years, but he was the Professor of Religion... it was his job to be fascinated by things like this.  
  
"Why so interested lately?"  
  
"I dunno; just want to be ready when the next apocalypse comes I suppose." Stalde answered, bits of apple escaping his mouth as he said it.  
  
"Well, that's just the thing; I'm not so sure it's an apocalyptic prophecy at all."  
  
Jonathon hunched an eyebrow, chewing thoughtfully. "Go on..."  
  
"As you know, most people are familiar with the statement given to the Silvite council about the 'sword of the Black Moon rising again, the last Silvite bearing my mark at its hilt'. But the council was so quick in dismissing and imprisoning him that they never heard the actual vision." Enyan started, his voice filling with passion, "What he actually saw was this: he saw the world of Arcadia, and the 'last Silvite' bearing his mark standing on top of it, though it is unsure weather it was a male or female that he saw. Anyway, the Silvite was holding a Melosian sword high above their head in a one handed grip, the blade running horizontally." Enyan grabbed a ruler from his desk, demonstrating the stance. "Now, Melosian swords are generally a two handed affair. To hold one with one hand is an indication of not being ready, or indecisiveness, and the position of the blade can be interpreted as 'War in the balance'"  
  
Stalde took another bit of his apple, and threw the core in a wastebasket beside Enyan's desk.  
  
"So, you're saying that this 'chosen one' still has a choice?"  
  
"Exactly."  
  
*************************************************  
  
The living blade cut through the air, humming and singing with ever twirl and stroke its bearer made, weaving an intricate dance of thrust and parry against its unseen enemy. It cast a silver sheen on the world around it as it moved through the dim twilight. Its reflection glared in the small pond nearby, allowing the young man to judge the quality of his movements and the accuracy of his footwork. But darkness was soon coming to bring his secret practice to an end. The light of the blade would be too easily found out.  
  
Somewhere from the other side of the small island a voice called his name, beckoning him indoors. He sighed and let go of his emotion, the blade hardening into an ultra-light metal. He would have to wait for a while before he could go back to house to make sure his mother was not waiting for him at the door. If she saw him with this sword she would slaughter him with it herself.  
  
Quietly he snuck his way past the crew's quarters, coming around the back of his house and stowing the sword among some bushes. He wouldn't be able to get it back to its proper spot until tomorrow, while his mother was busy. After he assured himself that it couldn't be seen, he walked up to the front door and strode in, pulling his boots off so as not to trail in the tell-tale sand.  
  
"Where have you been, Leos?"  
  
The teenager winced internally, but kept a straight face as he turned to meet the narrow eyed gaze of his mother.  
  
"Just out watching the sunset, Ma." He lied easily, knowing it was a tale she'd probably accept.  
  
"Well, why didn't you come when I called you?" She asked, her expression softening a bit.  
  
"You called? I didn't hear..." He said, starting to walk further into the common room, stretching, yawning, and otherwise generally trying to look nonchalant. "I just came in after it got dark."  
  
*****************************************  
  
It always gets worse before the end...  
  
Selina was jolted awake by the howling winds beating sand against the thick adobe walls of Markos' apartment. She gasped and sat upright; surprised that she had fallen asleep at all. Markos himself was right where she'd seen him last, though there was little looper left in front of him. Her attention was stolen however by the grinding noise coming from outside the building. Soon her curiosity got the best of her, and she found herself trying to look through a thick glass window, though there was nothing to be seen on the other side except for swirling sand and rock. She was reminded again of what Riana, her landlord, had told her this morning about it always getting worse before it quit.  
  
She wondered briefly whether or not she was going to be able to make it back to her own apartment. She'd been using her wind shield to keep herself protected from the other storms, but this one seemed different somehow, more powerful, and it had been strenuous even then to hold it up that long. But she was bound and determined to get home. She didn't really want to stay in this place where she feared the souls of dead loopers would haunt her sleep.  
  
"I fear it best you stay here tonight."  
  
Selina looked over at Markos, who was removing his goggles and rubbing his eyes with gloved hands. She was unnerved by his uncanny ability to answer her unspoken thoughts, and it was easily readable on her face, though the dark haired man scarcely seemed to notice.  
  
"How do you do that?" she asked him, her countenance ripe with curiosity and more than a little suspicion. Markos blinked hard a couple of times before fixing her with a curious look of his own.  
  
"Whatever do you mean?"  
  
"How can you tell what I'm thinking?"  
  
His face went blank for a moment, his breathing seeming to have stopped as if his brain could handle no more than what it was pondering at the moment. Finally he let out a deep sigh, and looked at her again with his engaging black eyes.  
  
"I guess we just think along the same lines I suppose."  
  
She nodded and resumed looking out the window, trying in vain to try and see anything through the curtain of sand. She could hear Markos begin to clean up his lab behind her, could hear the sick plop of looper flesh dropping into a sack, awaiting disposal. Knowing that the carcass was now out of sight, she started to help clean up, though she couldn't help but keep looking at the sack of dead animal sitting there beside the table.  
  
"You can use my bedroom." Markos said, once all the cleaning was done, and the bag containing the dead looper was out of sight and mind. Selina squirmed a little, her distaste evident.  
  
"I dunno, Markos... I'd feel really uncomfortable sleeping in your bed."  
  
Markos' expression was unreadable for a moment as he studied her face as if he could find her reasoning there. Clearly it was something he didn't understand.  
  
"Don't worry, I've never used it." He said finally.  
  
Selina furled her eyebrows, her head cocked slightly, "Where do you sleep then?"  
  
"On the floor."  
  
She didn't press him any further. She didn't think she wanted to know.  
  
*******************************  
  
Selina couldn't sleep. Outside the storm raged, pressing its assault against the building walls, expressing its want, its need, to get inside where they were. She almost wanted to let it in. She wouldn't have to listen to the grinding anymore, or have to go through another moment of the fingernails on chalkboard sound as it slid across the thick windows.  
  
The bed was comfortable enough though, and had indeed looked as if it had never been used. In fact, the whole room looked as if it had never been used which would have made her feel a lot better if not for the grinding and squealing of the winds and sands outside the walls.  
  
Eventually she found herself squeezing her eyes shut, hugging two pillows on either side of her head and humming as loudly as she could muster.  
  
Surprisingly enough, sleep finally came for her.  
  
***************************************  
  
Selina awoke to the glorious warmth of the sun, shining through sandblasted windows. She took a deep breath through her nose as she came into consciousness, not allowing herself to open her eyes, just reveling in the glorious warmth of the sun. She let out the breath through her mouth slowly, opening her eyes as she did.  
  
She rolled over onto her side, looking through the door-less opening to what would have been the living room, where Marcos sat in the middle of the floor, cross-legged, his spine straight, arms rested on his thighs, hands palms up. Curiously she watched him for a while, searching for any signs of life. To the casual observer it would have seemed that he wasn't breathing at all, but in actuality it was only drastically slowed, like a bear in hibernation. His eyes were shut tight, though retained a look of extreme relaxation, his eyes moving under the closed lids.  
  
She wondered what it was that he was dreaming of... and if he was dreaming at all. Lately she'd been wondering about him. In the past months that she'd known him, the most he'd ever told him about himself was that he hated people who drank loqua. She'd tried to talk to him about himself, but he'd always dismissed her, saying he was too busy with something, or that they could talk about it later. But later, it seemed, was always never.  
  
She sighed and got out of bed, stretching for a moment before pulling on her boots and gathering up her sand saturated cloak. She thought about 'waking up' Markos, but thought better of it. She couldn't tell if it was sleep he was doing or some kind of deep meditation, and if it was the latter she didn't want to disturb him. So she walked past him, keeping her steps light.  
  
"See you later..." She said softly before she shut the door behind her.  
  
It was a glorious day in Nasrad, and she could already tell that she was overdressed as she stepped out into the heat. The whole of the great city was covered with sand, but the blasting storm had had a wonderful effect on the stonework. Where the street was peeking through she could see polished granite, sparkling forth, waiting for the world to see its new grandeur.  
  
Even bad things can work toward a good end. 


	5. Chapter 4: It Begins

Chapter 4 - It Begins  
  
Jonathon Stalde was a patient man. A former treasure hunter, one- time bounty hunter, and presently the professor of history at the Imperial Academy, his patience had been tried with just about anything. He'd had to search tirelessly for new discoveries, wait for hours for sting operations, and had put up with the antics of class clowns for many more hours than he cared count. But there were still things that he had no patience for.  
  
"What do you mean you want me to find her?"  
  
Gheron Daigan steepled his fingers leaning his elbows heavily on the desk in front of him, his rumpled form seeming weary. He was older than the mid-aged professor, the wispy hair on his head gray with age.  
  
"This isn't my idea Stalde." He said slowly, rubbing his forehead, "It comes from higher up, possibly the Chief of State himself."  
  
Stalde sighed and slumped back into his padded chair.  
  
"Listen Daigan, I quit this line of work for a reason. I'm not interested."  
  
"Stalde, you were one of the best in business at one time, the best in Valua certainly. They need a man like you to track this girl down..."  
  
"For what?" Jonathon snapped, "What do 'they' need her so badly for? Do they want to kill her too..." his face was a stone mask, though the emotional raging within his soul shone through his lowered eyes. Daigan took a deep breath, trying to meet Stalde's averted eyes.  
  
"If need be... yes."  
  
"I can't do it again Daigan; I won't do it again..."  
  
"When are you going to get over this? It's been nearly twenty years! Twenty years since I found you lying in the streets, crying, broken in the streets, mugged and nearly half-dead!"  
  
Stalde glowered at his old friend and boss, "I made a vow never to fight again. I'm going to keep that vow... even if it means letting thugs beat me to death."  
  
Gheron tilted his padded leather char backward, swiveling it to the side so that Jonathon could only see his profile. His breathing was deep, calming his nerves and the great urge he had to backhand the younger man.  
  
"Stalde none of this is going to bring her back." He said carefully, trying to choose his words wisely, "She was a smuggler. She lived by the blade and died by the blade, there is no honor in remembering her through pacifism."  
  
"The guillotine is not 'the blade', Gheron... and execution is anything but honorable."  
  
Daigan spun up and out of his chair with a speed Jon had never seen out of him before; a determined iron will cast on the aged features which were now in front of his face.  
  
"Either this girl dies, or the whole of Arcadia will fall under an oppression far greater than even Galcien could imagine." He said forcefully, his finger punctuating each word.  
  
Stalde studied the man closely, his expression unreadable. "What are you talking about?" he said slowly, his eyes narrowed.  
  
"I'm talking about the Heir of the Seer, Jon... The heir bringer of the doom of Arcadia."  
  
Jon didn't know what to think. So he just sat there stupidly for a few moments, the old man's face inches from his, his breath sour on his face. Finally, he met the old man in the eyes, a fire burning behind them.  
  
"Alright, I'll do it." He said slowly, Daigan sighing with relief and returning to his chair. "But I want someone to go with me."  
  
Gheron met him with a white cocked eyebrow. "You've never been a man to take on a partner. Why do you do so now?"  
  
"Because, he knows a lot more about this kind of stuff than I do."  
  
"Enyan? You can't possibly be serious."  
  
"I'm deathly serious. In fact, I'm not going to do it without him."  
  
Daigan shrugged, disappointed that he was losing two teachers in one day, but thought it was rather petty in light of the circumstances. He'd choose life over education any day. "Alright, you can have him... but go easy on him alright? I'm not sure he's ever seen the outside of these walls before."  
  
Jonathon laughed and gave him a lopsided grin, "Don't worry; I won't let anything happen to him."  
  
He got up to leave, and then stopped in the doorway, suddenly turning around again with an embarrassed smile.  
  
"Who exactly am I supposed to be looking for?"  
  
"Selina Delasari."  
  
**********************************************  
  
"There, on the horizon, do you see it?"  
  
Selina squinted her eyes through the brightness of the desert, searching for whatever it was Markos was pointing at. Finally she saw it, angling their small craft toward it and opening the throttle to full speed.  
  
They were just north of Maramba today, and she could see the sand filled glass bowl where the temple of Pyrynn used to be. She smiled, the thought reminding her of her parents. They had been witness to the power that had caused that very destruction. Heck, her own grandmother was the cause of it. Just seeing it from this distance gave her chills up her spine. To imagine, the moon crystal embedded in her forehead held that much potential...  
  
"You're veering off to the left." Markos said calmly, "And I think our quarry has sighted up and is fleeing."  
  
Selina cleared her head and realized that she was angling the craft toward the ruins of Pyryn. Embarrassed, she wrestled them back on course, the red dot in the distance indeed seeming to be fading as it flew further and further from them. She grimaced and mentally cursed the looper, though she knew she couldn't blame it. If she were being hunted she'd probably run at the first signs of danger as well.  
  
"I think it's about time we headed back." Markos said, holding a huge jar with a live looper inside, which was hitting the walls furiously. "I'm content with today's catch. It's getting pretty dark as well."  
  
Selina looked to the west, the sun descending into the heavens, the red moon taking its shift as the dominant light-giver. She was somewhat disappointed by the prospect of turning back, though another part of her was ravenously hungry and was begging her to turn tail and head to the nearest Nasrian restaurant. She knew just the one too, where the meat was tender and juicy and the flatbread was sweet and spicy...  
  
"Sure Captain," She said finally, swinging the wheel left, toward the sun, "I'll get us back to Nasrad, no problem."  
  
The course was almost automatic to her now. It was amazing how quickly people adjusted to their surroundings. While the heat was something she still hated, it didn't bother her as much if she didn't think of it. And after only three months, going back to Nasrad felt too much like going home.  
  
She smiled at the thought. What had she been so afraid of? Something in her was still bitter about being left alone, but gradually she was beginning to adapt and even thrive in her new life. Being alone wasn't so scary. In fact, it was kind of liberating. She could so what she wanted when she wanted and didn't have to answer to anyone for it.  
  
An hour later they were docking at Nasrad, the sun now gone completely from sky, its afterthought still glowing from beyond the horizon. Selina tied to boat down in their allotted slot. She was now ravenously hungry, her stomach making its emptiness loudly known. Markos looked at her, then her stomach quizzically.  
  
"Hungry?"  
  
"No, I just like to keep a dozen veriaks in my stomach." She said teasingly. Markos however, just cocked his head as stared.  
  
"Why would you do that? Veriaks are highly poisonous."  
  
"Its sarcasm Markos, ever hear of it?"  
  
"Of coarse..." He said, almost defensively, "It was just discouraged by most of the people I grew up with..."  
  
Selina looked up at him with interest as they began to ascend the ramp to the city. As long as she'd known him he'd never told her a thing about where he'd come from, or anything about his life before Nasrad. This little tidbit intrigued her, though it really told her little. So he'd grown up under strict parents... who didn't? She decided not to press him on the subject though. He'd tell her things when he was ready, and he wasn't the kind of guy to crack under pressure.  
  
Her stomach growled again, prompting her to rub it ruefully. Markos looked at it again, pursing his lips.  
  
"Do you want to go get something to eat?"  
  
Selina looked at him slyly, her eyebrow cocked, "Are you asking me out on a date, Markos?"  
  
The full impact of this simple statement didn't seem to hit the man for about fifteen seconds as he stood and looked at her blankly, his bow furrowed. Finally his mouth gaped open, his cheeks turning the brightest red she'd ever seen.  
  
"Umm... I was just... I mean you were... Uh... sure?"  
  
Selina beamed at him, then stood on her toes to give him a kiss on the cheek.  
  
"Pick me up in an hour!" She yelled back at him as she jogged to her apartment.  
  
Markos just stood and watched her go, very confused about the whole matter. The red looper on the inside of the bottle he held in his armpit had calmed, and seemed to be watching her as well. He smiled and held it out in front of hit face, it meeting his gaze unabashed.  
  
"Do you loopers understand your women?"  
  
It made an odd gesture with its ring that Markos took to be the equivalent of a human shrug.  
  
"Yeah, we don't either."  
  
***************************************  
  
Ryne gathered the old man into his arms, squeezing him tight in a loving embrace. It had been too long... far too long.  
  
"It's good to see you again, Dad."  
  
Vyse patted his back, "You too Son... you too."  
  
Finally they pulled away from each other. The other person present, standing not far behind Vyse, smiled then fixed Ryne with a puppy dog stare.  
  
"What...? No sugar for an old woman?"  
  
Ryne grinned and pulled the red headed woman into a tight, but short embrace.  
  
"No matter how old you get, Aika, you never grow up." Ryne teased, earning chuckles from both of them.  
  
For nearly twenty three years Aika hadn't left his father's side. Ever since that day she brought him back from Lookout Isle, the only remaining piece of Dyne's former base, she had been his shadow, reclaiming her place at his side. She'd made no active romantic effort, out of respect for Fina, and seemed to be content to merely be his best friend once again.  
  
"So son, what brings you back to Crescent Isle?" Vyse asked, never one to beat around the bush.  
  
"Oh y'know, just making my rounds."  
  
"And those rounds would include...?" Vyse wore the knowing look of a father, his eyes twinkling. Ryne met him with a sidelong glance.  
  
"Oh, Horteka, Imperial City, here..." Ryne rubbed his nose, his hand covering over his mouth, "...nasrad, Sailors Isle, then home to see my family."  
  
"Sounds like you're going to be seeing family a lot sooner than 'home', Ry." A sly grin was spread over the older man's face. Ryne shook his head, smiling.  
  
"I just want to see how she's doing, that's all..."  
  
"She's doing fine and you know it... she has the resourcefulness of her mother, the intelligence of her grandmother, and the strength of her Grandfather."  
  
Ryne cocked a brow, "So where do I fit in this equation?"  
  
Vyse placed a hand on his son's shoulder, "I'm sorry, Ry... we didn't pass the genes on to you."  
  
Aika let out a trademark laugh, "You never had the genes Vyse, I think Dyne's the only one passing out genetics here."  
  
Both father and son looked at the woman with an expression that was identical, the only difference being the number of scars on their cheeks, and the fact that Ryne's hair was completely white, while Vyse's was graying. It was a priceless moment.  
  
"Who asked you?" Vyse said, shaking his head and rolling his hazel eyes. Ryne only laughed.  
  
"Where is grandpa anyway?"  
  
"Oh, you know him. He's probably making out with your grandmother somewhere."  
  
"Uhg, Thanks Dad," Ryne gagged, "That's one mental image you can keep, thank you."  
  
****************************************  
  
Markos stood at the door of Selina's apartment, wearing what the tailor had assured him was all the rage among Valuan higher ups. He tugged at the tight collar of the white, pressed, button-up shirt he was wearing. Besides the feeling of being choked, the suit was actually pretty comfortable, and consisted of a black vest, black suit coat and pants, and the shiniest shoes he'd ever seen. He'd even combed his hair for the occasion, slicking it back and tying it into a short ponytail at the nape of his neck.  
  
He didn't know why he was playing along with this little game of hers. He hadn't meant for her to take it the way she did, and he knew that she knew this as well. Why she wanted to play this charade was beyond him. She'd shown no interest for him in the past three months, and he'd shown no interest in her.  
  
Truthfully, he didn't want to have emotions for her. Emotions were a dangerous thing for him, something he'd mastered control of long ago...  
  
"It's usually customary to knock on the door."  
  
Markos turned around, knitting his brow slightly. Behind him was a small, pretty, dark skinned girl. She wore the customary robes that most wore in this region and a humorous smirk.  
  
"I know... I was just thinking."  
  
"Cold feet?"  
  
"No, they're quite warm, but thanks for asking."  
  
The young woman laughed, the sound like the tinkling of chimes. "Wow, she told me you were amazingly literal, but I never expected this..."  
  
"And no, I'm not nervous." He interrupted, the hint of a grin haunting the corner of his mouth. The woman looked almost blankly at him for a moment, then laughed again, shaking her head as she did.  
  
"Wow, aren't you just the cutest thing..."  
  
"Hey, stop trying to steal my date, Riana!"  
  
Markos hadn't heard the door open, but there it was, Selina leaning against the door jamb. For a moment he couldn't help but to stare. She was in a long white gown which seemed to shimmer with it's own light, almost opalescent, with matching gloves that ran up to her elbow. Her long, wavy, white hair was worn down, cascading over her shoulders and back. Her face itself seemed to sparkle, and he could almost swear that he could see a faint glow between her eyebrows.  
  
"You know I don't need to seduce men for a free meal." Her landlord said, winking at her and starting to make her exit down the stairs, "Oh, and your rent's due by the end of the week. No more extensions."  
  
"Got it."  
  
Selina looked at Markos, her head slightly lowered and tilted. "I am going to have enough to pay my rent this week right?"  
  
Markos cocked his head, looking straight into her blue-green eyes, "Of coarse."  
  
Selina smiled widely then presented her arm to him, "Great, now where are we going?"  
  
************************************  
  
Enyan's jaw hung open, his quill spilling all of its ink onto a paper her was grading. For a while it seemed as if he had frozen in time, not a muscle in his body moving, except for the small twitch at the corner of his mouth.  
  
"You want me to... go with you?"  
  
Stalde chuckled, "Yes Enyan, I want you to go with me."  
  
The wiry professor looked down at his papers, nervously wiping the ink spill off of the assignment he'd been grading, scrawling a quick A on it, though his earlier D had been effectively covered by the blot. He was visibly shaken, and kept nervously shoving his glasses further up onto his nose.  
  
"I...I don't think it's a good idea."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Well, it's not that I wouldn't love to join you, actually I'd love to, but I just don't feel that I'm quite up to the right, err, caliber that you're used to, or were used to rather."  
  
Stalde wore a goofy smile, humored by the clumsy, almost indecipherable jumble of words.  
  
"Enyan, I need you. You're the only one I can trust with this."  
  
"Oh, I'm sure there are many other, much more capable people out there if you look hard enough..."  
  
"No, I think you're the only one who can help me with this."  
  
"I...I don't understand."  
  
Stalde scooted his chair closer to Enyan's and leaned forward, their knees almost touching.  
  
"Listen Enyan, this is like no other job I've taken before. I'm not looking for a bounty, buried treasure, or some rare artifact. I'm looking for a prophecy here... One you're particularly fond of..."  
  
Enyan stopped fidgeting, his eyes glazing over in a kind of awe, his eyebrows disappearing into his brown hair. When he finally spoke it was in hushed tones.  
  
"The Prophecy of the Seer?"  
  
"The one and the same."  
  
Enyan slumped back in his chair, drunk with wonder.  
  
"What are we looking for? Do we know who it is?"  
  
"Selina Delasari."  
  
The younger professor made a fist with one hand and clapped his other hand over it, holding it tight.  
  
"Of coarse! It would have to be from Fina's linage, but I didn't know which of the three children would have the mark, or even if any of them would! I mean it could have been generations and generations before the mark presented itself in their line..."  
  
"Enyan, you're rambling."  
  
"I'm sorry, you're quite right." He said, unclenching his fingers, though they kept drumming on the arm of his chair excitedly. "So there is precise confirmation that she bears the mark?"  
  
"Yes," Markos said slowly, heightening the excitement, "We got a tip from an old fortune teller a while back, but 'they've' had a hard time tracking her down... which is why they came to me..."  
  
"Cause you're the best tracker in the business."  
  
"WAS the best tracker in the business." Stalde corrected. If Enyan's opinion of him was changed by this comment, nothing of it showed.  
  
"So, when do we leave?"  
  
"Tomorrow," Stalde said quickly, "I did a little digging and rumor is that her father sent her to Nasrad to 'grow up'"  
  
Enyan grimaced, "Ouch, that might not be good..."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
Enyan took a sip of the liquid that was sitting at his desk before answering. It seemed to have had a calming effect on him.  
  
"It all boils down to her choice. I mean if she hold a grudge against her family that could evolve into a grudge against the world, and that doesn't bode well for the fate of Arcadia..." He hung off, taking another sip of the brown drink.  
  
Stalde almost told him the other half of his orders. But a part of him knew that if Enyan knew the full reason why they were tracking down Selina Delasari, he might not stomach it well. The man was too personally interested in it, and he had a feeling that given a chance, the younger man would let things play out just to see if his theories were true. It was a dangerous trait.  
  
"So... the hunt begins then?"  
  
Enyan smiled, "Yes... it begins." 


	6. Chapter 5: Flight into the Night

Chapter 5 - Flight into the Night  
  
Markos had taken her to the local chain of Gordo's Bistro, the nicest restaurant in all of Nasrad and certainly the most expensive. Gordo himself had died long ago of a heat attack, but his bistros were now world renowned for class, style, and most of all, excellent dishes.  
  
Selina folded her hands in her lap, trying to look as proper as she could. She'd never been in a restaurant such as this and she wanted to give the best impression possible to the wealthy looking people that seemed to surround her. But no matter how hard she tried she still felt like thorn amongst roses.  
  
"Don't worry about them, you're doing fine."  
  
Selina looked over at Markos, who looked ever bit regal. His posture impeccable, his hands clasped in front of him without either elbow being on the table, and every part of his getup pressed and perfect. He looked like a visiting dignitary or a wealthy tycoon... which he might have been for all she knew.  
  
"Easy for you to say, you look like a prince or something..." She whispered back at him, "I get the feeling you've done this kind of thing before."  
  
Markos met her accusation with a half smile, "I grew up having to act like this. The trick to looking important is to look relaxed, as if the world revolves around you."  
  
"Truthfully, I'm more relaxed when I slouch."  
  
"Uncomfortable?" he asked, raising his glass of loqua to his lips and sipping slowly.  
  
"A little, yeah"  
  
"Good. You deserve it after tricking me into this." He said, smiling devilishly, lowering his glass. Selina laughed, though it was forced and unnatural. Markos raised an eyebrow, examining her with those deep blue eyes. "I'm not trying to impress anyone, why should you? Be comfortable. Who cares what people think?"  
  
She smiled shyly. She had never been to terribly worried about what people thought of her. In fact, she'd almost taken pride in how little she cared. She didn't know why it mattered so much to her now. Maybe it wasn't them she was trying to impress... maybe it was him. She'd never been on a date before, and even though she'd almost forced it on him she still felt awkward about it. She really should have gotten off the island more...  
  
"Whatever you say, Boss." She said, returning his evil grin and slouching down in her seat as much as possible, propping her feet up on one of the two empty chairs. "How's this?"  
  
"As long as you're comfortable," he said, taking a sip from his glass again, prompting her to do likewise.  
  
"I thought you hated loqua." She said, setting the glass down on the white tablecloth above the numerous, silver eating utensils. He set his glass down at well.  
  
"I've been drinking loqua since I was five," He replied, smacking his lips slightly, "I hate people who drink it to excess."  
  
"Not a big fan of drunks, eh?"  
  
"Not at all." his face twitching slightly in his distaste.  
  
She wondered if this could have anything to do with his past. Her mother had told her that she'd hated every pirate in the sky due to the actions of one ship and its crew. Until she'd met her father, who had been a blue rogue at the time... and a quite infamous rogue at that. Now he was the captain of a merchant vessel for the Delasaris shipping company... which wasn't a bad thing, though it certainly lacked the luster of piracy...  
  
"So... What's it like where you're from?" Selina said nonchalantly. Markos sighed, and stared to fidget with his napkin, looking away from her for the first time.  
  
"Well... chaotic." He admitted, swirling his drink in his glass for a moment before taking another sip of the pink liquid. "It's a madhouse. Everyone's out for themselves, clawing and scratching their way to where they want to be. There's no thought for the common good, they just want to keep fighting and fighting and fighting until we're all dead..."  
  
Selina was sitting forward now, resting her chin on her hand, watching as his voice started to rise in pitch as it filled with a passion she'd never seen him in before. However, he caught himself before he went to far, relaxing fists he never knew were clenched tightly. People seated around the other tables were watching him fixedly, wondering what all the commotion was all about. Markos closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, the anxiety seeming to flow out of him tangibly.  
  
"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to dredge up bad memories." She said softly, tracing the top of her glass with her finger, staring at some point at the floor. "I just... I dunno, I wanted to get to know you a little better I guess. I mean I've known you for three months now and all I know is your name and that you hate drunks."  
  
"It's Ok, Sela, you had no way of knowing..." he said, staring at that same point on the floor, "I'll tell about... where I'm from. But not yet. I'm not ready yet..."  
  
Selina looked up at the same time he did, their eyes locking in a blue on green embrace. Something was there, deep beneath those eyes. Pain she could see, but even beyond that... laid passion, burning like she'd never seen before. It was in that moment that she knew that he was not a safe man. It both scared and excited her all at once.  
  
"I understand."  
  
************************************  
  
The first thing that Enyan noticed was the heat. His whole body felt as if he were caught on the inside of the ship's boiler. The only thing he could stand to wear was an unbuttoned shirt, and his pantaloons which stopped mid-calf. It was his hope that the wind might cool him, but it seemed as if the wind was carrying the heat itself.  
  
He stood on the front deck of Stalde's old ship, the Midnight Prowler, his hands propped on the guard rails, his feet firmly planted on the deck below him. It was an old ship, probably more than thirty years or more, and hadn't been used in almost twenty. However, it was in excellent condition, and Stalde was an excellent captain. Not that Enyan knew anything about captaining a ship... he'd never stepped foot off the Valuan continent in all his twenty five years.  
  
It was dusk now, though he could see the glow of the capitol city of Nasrad, burning bright like a diamond amongst the sand. The sight took his breath away.  
  
As the sun slowly descended into the sky Enyan could feel the nip of a night's chill against his skin, making him rethink his attire. For being so hot in the daytime, it sure did cool off quick... The winds, which he once thought carried the heat, now brought an icy chill to his skin, making him pull the front of his shirt back together, buttoning it back together and starting to retreat back to the interior cabin of the small ship.  
  
It was warmer inside, though not by much. It was a wooden sailing ship, and couldn't be fitted with the floor heaters that came standard with most Valuan craft nowadays. He made a short stop in his assigned room and pulled on his stockings and boots, throwing on his vest and jacket as well, already feeling warmer.  
  
He worked his way up to the small bridge, where Jonathon stood vigilant at the wheel, his eyes darting to the gauges every once in a while. It was a one man ship, though it could easily carry fifteen or more passengers, and would need more than one if he planned to use the cannons on the lower deck. From what he knew, Stalde had always worked alone, so he didn't see why the ship even had cannons at all. He'd asked him about it but he'd simply said that they were for him.  
  
Stalde himself had changed out of his formal attire, unlike Enyan who still looked as if her were late for class. He wore a dark, form fitting black shirt, layered shoulder guards, and a dark cloak which hung around his neck and fell down to his calves. His pantaloons were the same color as his shirt and tucked in his tri-buckled boots, in which were concealed two blades he'd seen earlier. He looked every bit the fearsome bounty hunter that had ravaged the skies of pirates twenty years prior.  
  
"I thought you'd be in here sooner or later."  
  
"Yeah," Enyan answered Stalde's comment, "It's amazing how quickly the desert loses its heat."  
  
"You get used to it after a while."  
  
Enyan noticed that the city had already grown visibly since he was out on deck. He could now see the individual buildings that the lights were coming from, and see the people running underneath the streetlamps, going about the hardest work in the cool of the day.  
  
As the ship decreased altitude he could see the docks they were angling toward, growing closer and closer, until he thought they would almost collide with them. He let out a small gasp and braced himself against the wall, just before Stalde slid them into an empty slot without a hitch.  
  
"You were worried?" he asked with a half grin, his hands flying over the consoles surrounding him, shutting various instruments off as he powered down the ship.  
  
"Well... I've never really... flown before."  
  
Jon laughed and turned, the ship's engine dying with a faint whine. "I think you've done pretty well so far. Even our last emperor Enrique got air sick the first time he went sailing."  
  
"Really?" Enyan asked, his brow rising curiously, "I'd never heard that."  
  
"I think he had it taken out of most history books," he said, chuckling, "One of the perks of being Emperor I guess."  
  
Without another thought Stalde strode past him, Enyan hurrying after as he went outside and jumped over the railing with the mooring rope. He was putting a quick sailor's knot around the post when the attendant came up to him.  
  
"Excuse me sir, is this your ship?"  
  
"It is," Stalde said finishing his knot and standing to face the shorter attendant.  
  
"Well, its 300 gold a night, and 1000 gold for a standard work week," he recited, pushing his quill against the clipboard in his hand. "How long do you plan on being moored here?"  
  
"What the heck, give me the week rate." He consented, pulling the gold sack off of his belt, counting off ten of the largest pieces he had with him.  
  
He paid the attendant, who asked him for his name and the name of his ship, scrawling it down on his parchment paper.  
  
"Very good," he said finally, double checking his handiwork then turning to leave, "May the Red Moon always guide you here."  
  
"Yeah, you wish it would lead me back here..." Jonathon mumbled, reattaching his money pouch to his belt.  
  
They walked over the dock and through the produce vendors, Stalde grabbing two apples as he passed, tossing one to the younger professor, then tossing a gold piece to the girl behind the stand, who caught it with a small gasp followed by a larger one as she noticed the amount it was worth. He took a huge bite as he pushed open the outer gate, letting Enyan handle showing the guards their credentials.  
  
When Enyan finally made it past he gaped in awe at the city, the lights reflecting upon the polished marble, making the whole city sparkle. When he realized that he'd stopped and Stalde had not, he ran to catch up with him, his mouth still hanging open.  
  
"Is it always this beautiful?" He asked, falling into stride with his companion.  
  
"No," he said, after a moment's hesitation, "It's just after sandstorm season. The storms beat at the city for a straight week, polishing the rocks to this luster."  
  
Enyan nodded, the scholar in him appreciating the ways of nature.  
  
"So... what do we do now?"  
  
Stalde made a quick right, walking toward the first inn.  
  
"We start asking around."  
  
**************************************  
  
Elsewhere in Nasrad, a dark ship pulled up on the opposite side of the port. It was of Valuan design, though smaller and more streamlined than the average ship. Five figures exited, all dressed in the same uniform, black with red trim and masks covering their faces.  
  
The attendant walked up to the leader a little more skittishly, clutching his clipboard and parchment to his chest. He never got the chance to say anything before three large gold pieces were tossed at him by the one in the lead. He picked them off the decking and stood only to find himself face to face with the last, who shoved a gold piece into the pocket of his cloak and put a finger up to his masked face.  
  
"For your silence." He said simply, patting his shoulder and moving on.  
  
*******************************************  
  
Ryne pulled the Heir into the last empty docking spot left, marveling at how busy Nasrad seemed to be at this time of night. He watched from the bridge as two of his crew, Jeyr and Robert respectively, jumped over the railings and moored the ship to the posts provided for such. Using the talk tube he dismissed his crew for the night and jogged out to the deck, jumping over the railings and landing on the dock. Grimacing, he put his fists into the small of his back, leaning into them to shove his vertebrae back into place.  
  
"Man, I'm getting old..." He griped, resuming his normal posture and starting to walk toward the glittering jewel of the desert.  
  
The small attendant was there to meet him at the end of the dock, though he was leaning against a light post with his head down, visibly shaken. Ryne furrowed his brow at this, unbuttoning one of the pouches hanging at his side and unloading three large pieces of gold.  
  
"One night please." He said, pressing the gold pieces into his shaking hand. Ryne bent down low, trying to look the man in the face.  
  
"Tarib?" he asked, cocking a brow, "Are you alright?"  
  
The smaller man, simply nodded, writing down information he already knew. Ryne clasped him on the shoulder then walked on, wondering what could have passed by to shake the smaller man up so...  
  
**************************************  
  
Selina tore into her food, sparing no one the sight of her viciously ripping the meat off of her marinated koetka breast. Some of smaller flecks of meat were around her mouth and chin, though she was careful not to ruin the dress she'd paid two hundred gold pieces for. Finally she sat back in her chair, resting her hands on her stomach and letting out a loud belch, attracting the attention of the people who weren't already looking their way.  
  
Across from her sat Markos, still licking the remains of his meal from the plate, mashed potatoes clinging to his face. Finally he sat back as well, mirroring her pose though holding back on the belch as any more commotion would probably have them kicked out of the establishment. He sighed instead, feeling the beginnings of indigestion set in.  
  
Selina grinned at him from across the table, "Told ya."  
  
"Alright, I've been proven wrong." He said evenly, looking at her though it was uncomfortable due to the angle of his body, "You've bested me in both speed and sheer capacity."  
  
She nodded at him, picking at the leftovers on her face and popping them in her mouth one by one. She picked up her glass of water, swishing it in her mouth before sending it trailing after the poultry.  
  
"So..." she started, wiping the corners of her mouth daintily with her lacy napkin, "How much was on the table again?"  
  
"I believe it was your rent for the next two weeks."  
  
"Uh huh," She grunted, cocking white brow, "And what else?"  
  
"I believe that the other condition was that I must launder your clothes for the next week."  
  
"And...?"  
  
Markos' lips twitched into a grin, "And I must refer to you as Master Selina Delasari for the next week as well."  
  
"Master's fine too if you like." Selina said, picking her teeth with the smallest of three forks set before her.  
  
"Excuse me Sir, Madame,"  
  
Markos glanced over his shoulder at the tuxedoed man standing just behind him; his arms folded over his expansive chest, his expression all business.  
  
"Can I help you Monsieur?" Markos asked, turning in seat to view him fully.  
  
"Yes, you could help me by removing yourselves from this establishment."  
  
Markos looked over at Selina, who shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm game. This place is full of stiffs anyway."  
  
"Aright, let me pay the bill and we'll be on our way," he said, getting up out of his seat, brushing away some of the crumbs that had fallen on his stomach and lap.  
  
"I was told to see you out immediately, don't worry about the bill," The bouncer said gruffly, "Just don't come back again."  
  
Selina chuckled and got out of her seat, bowing to the on-looking crowd of higher class individuals.  
  
"If you would like a repeat of tonight's performance," She said grandly, opening her arms wide, "Please go to your nearest bar or tavern, where you can find your sense of humor in a bottle of cheap loqua."  
  
She was carried out over the wide shoulders of the large bouncer.  
  
************************************  
  
"Do you think maybe we should get a room for the night?" Enyan asked, yawning and rubbing his eyes. Stalde sighed and looked at him as one might look at a small child.  
  
"Nasrad is more awake at night, Enyan," He said, walking up to the fifth apartment complexes they'd tried, "If we want to find her we have to be awake during their hours."  
  
Enyan yawned once more as he pushed the doors open into the small lobby of the adobe building, one of the cheaper places he'd seen so far though it seemed to be well kept and clean. Behind the desk sat a small, pretty young woman who was leaning back in a plain chair, reading a book that was propped on her knee. When she noticed their entrance she planted all four legs on the ground and hid the book under the counter.  
  
"I'm sorry, but all our one night rooms are taken," she said, smiling at them the whole time, "But if you're looking at a weekly rate or even permanent residence I have a few vacancies."  
  
Stalde smiled and leaned forward on the desk, meeting her brown eyed gaze, "Well, actually we're not looking to stay, we're just looking for some information."  
  
The woman pouted her lip and tilted her head, shrugging, "Well, I guess I could help you there, I AM the local gossip chieftain."  
  
"Great," He said, not breaking eye contact, flashing his winning smile. He was used to using his looks in his favor. "Do you happen to know Selina Delasari?"  
  
The girl sat back in her chair, crossing her arms, her eyes now sending a stony glare. "Why?"  
  
"I'm an old friend of the family," He shrugged, "Just wanted to drop by and say hello, that's all."  
  
The woman bit her bottom lip, "How do I know I can trust you?" she said finally, "You look an awful lot like a bounty hunter to me."  
  
Stalde shrugged, "You can't trust me, you're just going to have to take it on faith."  
  
The girl rocked back in her chair a couple times, her dark eyes distant and unfocused. She set the chair down again, looking up at Stalde with pursed lips.  
  
"She lives here," Stalde's heart leapt, though he didn't let his face show it. "Though she's not here right now, she went out on a date. But I'll tell ya what, you can wait in here or outside for her if you want."  
  
Stalde flashed an appreciative smile, "Thanks a lot, we'll just wait outside."  
  
*****************************************  
  
The shadow warriors were good at their jobs. Though the streets were fairly crowed in the midnight hour they were seen by no one, minus the dock attendant. Silently they crept through the shadows provided by the moon and streetlamps, trailing the two they had been sent to follow, monitoring their progress, making sure the job would be done right.  
  
They watched from the darkness as they exited the building, leaning against the thick adobe walls, waiting for something. The leader made a series of motions with his hands, and two of their number nodded, pressing themselves against the building whose overcast they were concealed in. He then motioned to the other two, who nodded and joined him as he crept out of sight.  
  
************************************************  
  
"FINE, I'll just take my business, ELSEWHERE!" Selina yelled back at the large bouncer, as she caught herself before she hit the ground.  
  
Markos strode out just as the larger man was trying to walk back in, causing them both to have to go through sideways. He walked up to her slowly, smiling and shaking his head.  
  
"Need a hand?" He asked, standing over her and offering the use of his.  
  
"Nope, I've already got two." She picked herself off the ground, brushing the sand from them and looking at him haughtily, "I can take care of myself thank you!"  
  
"Suit yourself." Markos shrugged and offered his arm to her, which she took.  
  
They walked for a while, neither saying anything, just contented themselves with the silence. They passed through the darkened bazaar, Selina running her fingers over the clothes that hid the wares from sight and the damp night. She did it to give the guard that watched the walk something to pay attention to. She tapped on his breastplate as they started to make their way down the stairs and toward her humble apartment.  
  
Selina sighed deeply gazing up at the red moon, then closing her eyes and breathing deep the cool midnight air, drinking in the power of the red moon it self, sending it's warming energies coursing through her veins. The silver moon crystal in her forehead began to throb dully, then let forth a steady glow in the darkness.  
  
"That's interesting."  
  
Selina turned her face toward Markos who was looking at the light steadily emanating from between her eyebrows. She turned her eyes upward in a vain attempt to see what he was looking at, only to realize what she had been doing.  
  
"Oh... yeah." Selina turned her face away, only to have it gently pulled back to Markos' own.  
  
"No, don't," He pleaded, holding her face in his hand, brushing away the hair that was blowing over it and tucking it behind her ear. "It's beautiful."  
  
Selina felt the blood rushing to her cheeks, glad that the night would conceal it. Finally she found it in herself to break away from his gentle grip, turning her face away from him and suppressing the energies contained within her, letting the heat bleed out, inviting the chill to her once more.  
  
"Silvite," She admitted, folding her arms and walking toward the fountain that adorned the city's central area, stopping in front of it, gazing at the person reflected in the water. "We all have one. Mine's just... a little awkwardly placed, that's all."  
  
Selina could hear Markos' steps as he walked up to her, sitting down on the edge of the fountain she was staring into.  
  
"Well, I think it's lovely." He said, studying her for a moment before a devilish light came to his eyes, "Though it doesn't suit you well."  
  
"What do you mean?" She demanded, furrowing her brow, piecing him with her blue-green eyes.  
  
"Well, you know what they say," He replied, folding his arms over his chest, looking at her with one brow raised, "Don't cast your pearls before the swine."  
  
Selina didn't know weather to laugh or hit him square in the jaw, as she might have done with Aerin or Leos. Instead she glared at him, turning on her heel and marching in the direction of her apartment.  
  
"Oh come on, Sela, don't be like that." He called after her, "You're a beautiful pig!"  
  
*********************************************  
  
Ryne made his way to the adobe building slowly, unsure if he had the right address. After he'd made a quick stop at the inn he'd sent Selina to the first time and identifying himself as her father, the keeper had sent him here. He reread the address on the paper he held, matching it with the name and number printed on the sign above the door.  
  
"I guess this is the place." He said to himself, tucking the paper into the pocket of his long coat.  
  
Outside there were two men. One was muscular and tough looking, leaning against the side of the building as if waiting for someone. He could see the various armors and weapons concealed beneath and in his clothing. The other was wiry and disheveled, and reminded Ryne a lot of a grungy Ilchymis. He ignored them and walked into the complex, where he was greeted by the small Nasrian behind the counter.  
  
********************************************  
  
The shadow warriors watched. Their quarry had been found, but there was another there with her, and they were smart enough to observe before rushing in. Still, the odds were three against one, and they had trained long and hard to be able to make their kills swiftly and fade into the night.  
  
Then abruptly she was on her feet, fleeing the scene, leaving the man behind. This was their chance.  
  
The leader made a series of movements with his hands, signaling to one of the two behind him. He came to the front, proud that his skills would be of use. Slowly, without a sound, his fingers dipped into the small pouch at his side, producing three small blades. He lined the target in his sight, then let them fly.  
  
***********************************************  
  
Markos was on his feet and running before the blades ever left his hand.  
  
"Selina! Down!" He ordered, tackling her full on, the blades whooshing harmlessly overhead.  
  
"Markos! What are you doing?!" She cried, lashing out against him. He jumped up and grabbed her wrist, pulling her along he ran down the street.  
  
"Just run!"  
  
*************************************************  
  
The warrior cursed. Their cover had been blown. There was no use for subtleties now. With one harsh cry all three bust from their cover, blade bristling and flying through the air.  
  
Outside the apartment complex the other two shadow warriors heard the call for action and came swiftly from their hiding spot and into the fight at hand.  
  
**********************************  
  
"What was that?"  
  
Stalde cursed, recognizing the war cry of the shadow warrior, and seeing the two dark blurs disappear around the corner.  
  
"It was our girl," He said, answering Enyan's question, "They didn't trust me to finish the job. C'mon."  
  
He spurned the professor into action, chasing after the two shadow warriors.  
  
**********************************************  
  
"Duck." Selina followed her orders, a throwing knife passing over her head.  
  
"Juke left." Another knife grazed her right side.  
  
"Roll." She tucked into a tight ball, feeling the seams of her dress rip as the rolled and a flurry of blades swarmed over head. She got up dizzy, though continued running.  
  
How was he doing that?  
  
****************************************************  
  
Ryne also heard the cry from the inside of the building, rushing outside and toward the noise with the worry only a parent could muster. As he rounded the corner his worst fears came to light.  
  
"Selina? SELINA!"  
  
******************************************************  
  
As she passed through the city gate she felt the ripping of flesh in her side, though she ignored it for the time being. She'd waited too long for Markos' voiced warning, and now she was paying the consequences. She bit her lips as they pushed onward toward his small ship in tandem, though Markos was undeniably in the lead now. She heard someone call her name before she leapt onto the wooden deck of the small skiff and fell into darkness, clutching the bleeding gash in her side. 


	7. Chapter 6: Through the Darkness

Chapter 6 - Through the Darkness  
  
Ryne gritted his teeth, calling upon the power of the blue moon, his legs becoming a blur beneath him as his hand grasped the large double-edged sword resting in the shoulder mounted sheath, blowing past the other two men who seemed to have joined the chase. The closest shadow warrior never saw it coming. As he was about to release another flurry of throwing blades, Ryne swung the blade in a horizontal swing, cleaving his torso from his legs, his surprised scream escalating as his body fell to the marble in two halves.  
  
The remaining four skidded on their heels turning to see their fallen comrade, their expressions unreadable behind the black masks they wore, though their body language spoke volumes. Casualties were to be expected if one left the shadows. This was the ultimate price, the ultimate sacrifice. They would mourn their brother later. Right now, they had a job to do.  
  
The leader made a series of hand gestures, two of their number widening their footing and pulling two short blades from behind their backs, squaring off with the young looking Silvite. The leader and the last warrior sped off toward the city gates.  
  
Ryne held his blade vertically in front of him, his face contorted in anger and frustration. The advantage of surprise was lost, and his daughter was still being chased. There was no way he was going to be able to take down these two in time to catch up. He just had to hope that he'd distracted the other two long enough for her to escape, or that she and whoever it was that she was with could hold them off long enough for him to get there.  
  
He let out a cry of rage, charging between the two of them, preparing for another horizontal swing.  
  
*******************************  
  
Markos cursed in his own tongue, hefting her over his shoulder and running to the helm of the small ship. He'd never sailed before in his life, which was why Selina had been the one who had captained the small vessel. She was the reason he'd bought it in the first place, though he'd never told her this. Now she was probably poisoned, being hunted, and he had no clue how to get this thing into the air. He'd have to guess, based on what he'd watched her do for almost three months now.  
  
The ship only had one main mast and he ran to it now, hoisting the sail until it would go no further, stopping when it would go no further and tying it around a peg. It billowed in wind, doing no work at all. He cursed again, running to the open air captain's station and starting the engines, coming to life with a dull thrum. Thanking the moons, he pulled the throttle back, the ship pulling backwards slowly. He angled the ship north-east, pointed the ship skyward, caught the wind, and got the heck out of Nasrad.  
  
************************************  
  
Stalde and Enyan felt a rush of wind as a white and blue blur moved around them, splitting the trailing warrior into two pieces. Stalde, long desensitized to this kind of violence, kept running while Enyan skidded to a halt, gaping in horror at the dying man at before him. As the life- giving blood spilled onto the ground Enyan, for the first time, wondered what he was doing here. He was no warrior, no great hero, had never even owned a letter opener, let alone a sword. He was going to get killed out here, never to see his class again, never o marry, have children. And suddenly, he was afraid.  
  
Stalde reached back behind his back, where his twin revolvers were holstered. Taking careful aim he let loose a full volley of shots, peppering one of the shadow warriors body with shots, most of which merely dented the iron chest plate underneath his uniform, the last of two piercing his throat then his mask, leaving him twitching and bleeding on the ground.  
  
Ryne didn't bother to see who'd taken out the second shadow warrior. He didn't particularly care at the moment. All he was worried about were the two blades that were working in tandem to both gut him and tear off his face. He leaned backward, rotating himself on his hand and taking out his opponents legs from under him. Before he fell he pulled his short blades close to his body, and then rolled.  
  
Ryne jumped up immediately after tripping him, lost for a moment until he saw the warrior push himself to his feet, about ten feet away from where he'd landed, his hand dipping into his pouch for the last three poisoned blades he carried and whipping them at the enraged other. Ryne screamed and thrust his right hand out in front of him; the area bursting forth with a light so bright everyone within a hundred feet had to cover their eyes. When all could see again, the warrior was dead and the blades lay harmless on the ground not three centimeters from Ryne's boots.  
  
Ryne bit his lip and ran for his ship, screaming for his crew as he passed by the cantinas. There were still two more out there, and he wasn't about to let them get away.  
  
Stalde and Enyan stood gaped mouthed for a moment as they watched the white haired man as he ran desperately for the docks, the few crewmembers that had heard him leaving their drinks and their women to follow him faithfully. Enyan was the first to speak.  
  
"What... was that?"  
  
"That..." Stalde said slowly, regaining his composure and starting to run for the docks himself, motioning for Enyan to follow, "Was a Silvite who knows exactly what he's doing."  
  
******************************  
  
The remaining two shadow warriors ran for their ship as fast as they could. They knew their companions were dead. There was no way they could have survived. It wasn't only that Ryne was widely considered to be the best fighter on all of Arcadia, his skills in both magic and the blade widely renowned, but more so he was a father fighting for his offspring. There was nothing fiercer in all the world.  
  
The leader jumped in through the top hatch, skipping the ladder altogether, his only surviving warrior following. His fingers ran over the consoles in a flurry, the only sign of the running engine being the gentle vibration on the soles of his feet.  
  
The ship's engine and hull design was the latest in Valuan technology. It ran totally silent, its form undetectable by sonar or radar. At night, it was almost impossible to detect, its black color blending seamlessly into the night. It had been built specifically for covert operations, though this mission had blown the covert part long ago.  
  
The captain sailed it smoothly into open sky, scanning the horizon, searching for the ship that had left the harbor just moments before he had. He finally sighted it, heading full sail north-east, clipping along at a good pace. He didn't know weather to swear or make a victory toast. On the one hand, they were heading straight toward the black rift and Yafutoma, and he knew for a fact that a ship that small could not handle the pressure differences it would take to go over or under the rift. On the other hand, their craft might be faster full sail than the silent engines of the shadow warriors could handle, or they might correct coarse and go the most logical route to Crescent Isle and safety.  
  
It was obvious that the girl was not captaining the vessel, or else that would have been her first instinct. With any luck, they'd hit her with one of their poisoned blades earlier, and she was already dying. He prayed to the moons that this was the case.  
  
*****************************************  
  
Markos could feel the other ship behind him. He couldn't see it, but he could sense it. He knew they were going faster though. As long as the wind blew in their favor, they could reach safety in no time. He held the ship steady, steering with the wind, always keeping its path, letting it drag him through the ocean.  
  
Selina lay unconscious behind him, and he could feel that she was dying as well. Not from the knife wound, for that had slit only flesh, the blood already congealing to seal back together. No, there was something else at work, something coursing through her blood, polluting her body. He wished he could care for her, wished he could kneel there and make sure everything was going to be alright. But that was a luxury he could not afford at the moment. The wind had changed as if the blue moon itself had now turned against them as well.  
  
It was blowing them back to where they'd come from. And he'd been so close...  
  
***************************************  
  
Ryne took the helm of the Last Heir, every cell in his body pumping with the energy that his adrenaline was feeding him. He shouted orders to his crew, snapping at them in his time of desperation. He'd only made it here with half the crew he usually carried, but it would be enough. He prayed it would be enough anyway. The moons were particularly busy tonight.  
  
Ryne thrust the engines into reverse, barely taking notice as a shadow ran swiftly down the dock, launching itself at the reversing ship, barely imaging to grab the guardrails and hurl itself onto the deck. It ran straight for the bridge door, disappearing inside then making its presence known in the cabin, gasping for breath against the door jamb.  
  
"What am I missing?" he gasped.  
  
"Someone's trying to kill Selina!" Ryne all but yelled at his first mate, punching the emergency thrusters into gear.  
  
He'd never thought he'd use the extra power the emergency system would give him, as the Last Heir was a sailing ship. He'd consented to the new propulsion system years ago at the urge of his wife, who'd insisted that the winds were getting consistently unpredictable. He'd never found a use for it until now, and he blessed the intelligence of his wife.  
  
He could see the glow of hover engines in the distance, and knew somehow knew it was his daughter. He could sense her. It was one of the perks of being the only two living Silvites. But there was something else there as well, visible only when it blocked the red glow of the first ship. It was the other two shadow warriors, it had to be. But how could it sail without making a sound, or emitting the telltale glow of burning moonstone?  
  
******************************************  
  
"Jonathon, what are we doing?" Enyan yelled, trying to keep up with the mid- age bounty hunter turned teacher.  
  
"We're trying to catch up, that's what we're trying to do." He snapped back at him, hurdling the railings of his small ship and careening toward the bridge at a breakneck speed.  
  
Enyan, far less athletic, flopped over the edge of the boat, stumbling his way after him.  
  
"But we're going to get ourselves killed!" he implored, "Besides, what can we do? Her dad's practically got a small army after her!"  
  
"I don't care," Stalde said, bringing the ship to trail after the Heir, "In my entire career I only lost one job, and I'm no planning on making it two. Not with the stakes we're playing with."  
  
********************************************  
  
The black ship was catching up easily to Markos' back skidding skiff. No matter how hard he prayed, the blue moon didn't seem to want to answer his pleas. He sighed at the volley of cannonballs flew toward his ship, taking his mast off entirely and ripping through the hover engines crippling them fatally. He sighed, knowing that his ship wasn't going to survive this. They only had one chance now.  
  
He tossed Selina over his shoulder, abandoning the helm and running below deck where the life raft had been stored. Though he'd removed it when he'd bought the ship, replacing it with the small craft he already owned.  
  
It was about fifteen feet in length, a streamlined triangular shape. The central shape was an elongated ovoid, thick triangular wings affixed to the side, an air scoop on either wing connecting to twin turbines. The cockpit was small and positioned in the middle, built for a maximum capacity of two people, its black canopy opaque to anyone on the outside.  
  
He elbowed the lever on the wall down, the side hatch popping open with a rush of wind. He could see the black rift just outside, its swirling dark clouds promising sanctuary. He jumped up on one of the wings, kicking the canopy release and gently placed Selina's body in the rear seat, positioning her comfortably and strapping her in before jumping in as well, grasping the twin yokes on his sides.  
  
He heard another round of cannonball fire outside the ship. He heard the impact, bracing his body between the outer edges of the narrow deck, though nothing had happened to the skiff at all. Their attackers were being fired upon! He uttered a quick prayer of thanks to the moons as his ship began to hover off of the wooden decking.  
  
***********************************************  
  
"Take out their propulsion engines if you can." Ryne commanded his gunners through the talk-tube, "I want to take this ship alive if possible."  
  
"But sir, we can't even see the vessel!" The head gunner, Harris protested, "We can only guess where they are when we see their cannons flash."  
  
"I only said, 'if possible', Harris." Ryne quipped, ending the chat.  
  
"Sir, what's the plan?" Jeyr asked, feeling quite useless.  
  
"We're going to take this ship, Blue Rogues style." He answered, "Get hooks and rope, we're going to reel them in and board them. I want answers... and I swear to the moons if they've hurt Sela, I'm going to kill them slowly."  
  
*************************************************  
  
"Sir, the main engines have been taken out!"  
  
The leader of the shadow warrior strike team pounded his fist into the pilot's console, venting his frustrations on the instruments that would no longer work. He took a deep breath, calming himself, relaxing his fist. It was of no consequence. They could still finish this.  
  
"We still have them in our sights, right?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Unleash the heat-seeker."  
  
*****************************************************  
  
Markos' thrust his fingers forward, the rear thrusters burning the back wall of the cargo bay as it shot out into open sky, looking like a giant black bird with its tail feathers on fire. They had escaped the dying ship, which was now beginning to sink into deep sky. However, they were now faced with the problem of being the most active heat source in the area.  
  
*****************************************************  
  
"Sir, we've crippled their engines, but they've just released a torpedo." Depp the radar operator reported. Ryne relented control of the helm to Robert, who took the wheel in his hands, steering toward the growing dark spot.  
  
Ryne watched the two blips on the circular screen, breathing his relief as he saw the torpedo's vector would take it past the other light on the screen that represented Selina's escape craft. However, when it corrected coarse on its own, his jaw dropped in awe and horror.  
  
"Take that thing out of the sky!" He yelled into the nearest talk-tube in desperation.  
  
"We can't, Sir. We'd be shooting in the direction of the life-raft as well."  
  
**************************************************  
  
Markos could sense the missile behind him, closing in them with its superior speed. He bit his lower lip twisting the ship into a barrel roll, then a dive, trying to shake it off his tail. The bomb stayed true, closing in on him as it followed every move he made. He pulled it into a high climb, leveled out, then shut off his engines hoping to buy himself more time. The trick worked... until he had to engage his thrusters once again. But now there was a comfortable amount of distance between them.  
  
He raced for the Dark Rift with everything his ship could give, pushing it's speed to the limits as the missile gradually caught up to him.  
  
*******************************************  
  
"What the heck are they doing, and how the heck are they doing that?" Depp implored of his captain, staring in wonder at the erratic movement of the escape vessel. Ryne shook his head, having no answers to give.  
  
"The torpedo is still gaining on them." He stated matter-of-factly.  
  
"And they're headed into the Dark Rift." Jeyr added, watching over his superior's shoulder. "Either way, they can't make it."  
  
"Don't make quick assumptions, Kid." Ryne scolded, folding his arms over his chest and watching the radar stonily, "I think I know what they're trying to do."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"They're going to go as close as they can to the rift then pull into a vertical climb, hopefully losing it in the winds."  
  
"What kind of ship can pull that off?"  
  
***************************************************  
  
Markos held his thumbs over the small buttons on the tips of his flight yokes, waiting for the last minute to use the only trick he had up his sleeves. The winds of the Dark Rift loomed in front of him, rushing forward to greet him at a speed most Arcadian ships couldn't hope to reach. He focused his eyes on one point, keeping there as it grew closer and closer, and he knew his ship would be torn to sheds if he didn't act quickly.  
  
When the tip of his ship touched the point he was focused on, he hit the switches and killed the engines, black fire consuming his ship as it plunged into the Dark Rift, surrendering to the winds.  
  
*******************************************************  
  
Ryne tore his eyes away from the radar screen to watch the black rift consume his daughter's ship, watched as the torpedo followed in after them, exploding shortly afterward, its fires quelled by the sharp winds inside the monstrous black gale. He clenched his fists and shut his eyes, the back side of right hand glowing faintly as it searched for its only living partner. Finally he sighed and opened his eyes.  
  
She was alive. Somehow, she'd made it through the Dark Rift.  
  
"She's still alive." He said softly, sighing it out. Finally he fixed his eyes on the shapeless black form nearing his ship, hooked ropes being thrown at it, bringing it side to side with his vessel. Ryne's hand went to his shoulder harnessed blade, just to make sure it was still there.  
  
"Alright men, let's show these guys who they're messing with."  
  
*********************************************************  
  
After he felt the explosion, Markos turned the thrusters back online, trying to get the ship under his control. He wrestled with the twin yokes, having only a vague sense of which way was up. Finally he managed to work it into a steady flight, only to find that he was flying sideways. He straightened his flight out gradually as the blood rushed to the right side of his face.  
  
Just as he worked it into a horizontal position they burst out of the thick cloud into the blue tinted lands of Yafutoma at early morn. He sighed in relief and turned off his shields, then remembered Selina whose life was slowly bleeding away. Markos turned around, extending his hand over her blood clotted side, clearing his mind and reciting an incantation he'd known since a child. Gradually she came to, gasping for breath desperately, then started to regain her strength, though the cut in her side was still there.  
  
"What happened?" she demanded, when her breathing finally slowed to normal. Her hand went instinctively to her side, finding it sticky with coagulated blood, "Where am I?"  
  
Markos sighed, turning in his seat again, "You're in my ship, which right now is somewhere in the Yafutoman region." He explained, pointing at the large blue moon which hung above them.  
  
"But why are we in Yafutoma? And where's the ship we set out on? And why can't I remember any of it?" she assaulted him, while in the process of cleaning and healing her wound. Markos sighed and began to explain about their flight from Nasrad, and the poisoned knife that had grazed her side. She had a million of questions when he came to their passing through the dark rift, which he was uncomfortable to answer. He skirted around them nimbly, answering vaguely, though satisfactorily.  
  
"So... Where'd this ship come from?" She asked finally.  
  
"It was in the cargo bay, where the life rafts would usually be." He answered smoothly.  
  
"I've never seen this kind of ship before..." She said, running her fingers over the weapons console which she sat at, "Where did it come from?"  
  
"From my homeland," He said slowly, "From Melosia."  
  
************************************************  
  
Ryne made his way down the ladder of the Valuan ship, where the two shadow warriors had already been captured by his men. He strode up to the leader with his hands clasped behind his long blue overcoat. He walked over to who he assumed was the leader, seeing the red piping on his uniform and tore the mask from his face, revealing a mop of brown hair set above deep brown eyes. His face would have been handsome, if not for the scars marring it from years of work. Ryne recognized him immediately.  
  
He grabbed his from the front of his uniform, ripping him from the hold two of his crew had on him and slammed him against the bulkhead.  
  
"Rafe, you son of a..." He didn't finish the sentence, just slammed him against the side of the ship again, "Why are you trying to kill my only daughter?!"  
  
Rafe Falloy, one of the hero's of the last Silvite War, the man who'd piloted the moonship to the Silvite's stronghold and crash landed it successfully, wrapped his hands around Ryne's wrists, trying to pull himself up to gasp a breath. He didn't try to escape. He knew he was far outclassed, even with all the training he'd put himself through.  
  
"It's nothing personal, Ryne." He gasped, trying to keep his esophagus from closing, "But your daughter has to die or... we all die."  
  
Ryne slammed his body against the wall again, it cracking in protest, "Don't give me this 'End of the World' crap! This is my DAUGHTER we're talking about!"  
  
"And I'm sorry it had to be her, I really am, but the facts are the facts. She bears the mark."  
  
Ryne let out a yell of frustration, dropping him, "You don't think I know that!? She's my CHILD!"  
  
"Which is exactly why you're being blinded by your love for her!"  
  
Ryne leaned against the opposite wall, his eyes watering as he slid down into a sitting position, almost child-like.  
  
"I already lost a mother, I'm NOT going to lose my daughter." 


	8. Chapter 7: Warm Welcomes

Chapter 7 - Warm Welcomes  
  
Rachel dipped her feet into the cold water of the spring fed lake, biting her lips and forcing herself to walk further into its icy chill. When she managed to get into it waist high, she took a deep breath and dove in the rest of the way, her head popping up shortly to gasp for breath. Letting her body establish its own rhythm for breathing, she let herself float, watching the broken moon above and the stars which almost seemed to be the dust of the shattered god. She relaxed every muscle of her body, her eyes unfocused as she seemed to leave her body behind, becoming one with the rest of the universe. It was reassuring to her, knowing that there was a bigger picture, that the she was not the only one.  
  
Her mother would kill her if she knew she was out here. Fortunately, her mother wasn't even on the island and probably not even in the same region right now. And as much as she missed her when she was off sailing with Ryne and her father, she enjoyed the small freedoms such as this. And right now, she needed this more than ever. She was a confused sixteen year old girl.  
  
She'd known the twins for all of her life, and had been friends with them for just as long. Never before had the thought that both of them might be vying for her heart come into her mind. Now it was all she could think about, and it was becoming more and more obvious with every passing day. And she was dreading the moment when she would have to choose between them.  
  
She closed her eyes and sighed, letting her problems bleed out into the rest of the universe, swallowed up by the cold void. Her burden lifted off her shoulders like a yoke and she felt as if she might float up and out of the pool. She smiled and shifted her weight, planting her toes in the sand and beginning her slow but short walk back to dry land.  
  
She shivered in the cool night air, the long wet shirt she wore offering her little in the area of warmth. Thankfully she'd remembered to bring her thick hooded cloak along as well, and she draped it around her shoulders and body, clutching it fiercely to trap the body heat inside.  
  
She began to walk toward her home in the crew quarters, when a soft humming reached her ears. It was like the buzz of an insect, only deeper, and having a more comforting quality to it... like white noise. She followed it to its source, through the small wooded area on the island, as she neared she could also make out a swirling light, cutting through the foliage and casting white highlights on the greenery around her. Then she saw the figure of the man wielding the light, moving through sets of aggressive thrusts and swings, vertical and horizontal blows against an unseen enemy. And though she could not see his face, she knew it to be Leos.  
  
She watched him for a while from behind a tree the grace and fluidity of his movements astounding her. The only thing she could liken it to would be a Nasrian dancer, though this dance was decidedly more deadly.  
  
Leos' practiced steps took him directly in front of the tree she was hiding behind, shutting him off from her sight. She bit her lower lip, craning her neck to try to see him again. When she could still see nothing she started to lean ever so slightly, still catching no sign of him. When she had come fully out of the cover of the tree, Leos swept out of the tree tops, his glowing blade held downward in a two handed grip, landing directly in front of her. Rachel screamed and stumbled backward, falling to the ground. Leos, just as startled as she had been, instinctively turned to meet this unexpected foe.  
  
"Who are you and what are you doing here?" He demanded of the cloaked and hooded figure on the ground before him.  
  
"Jeez Leos, I could ask you the same thing." She shot back at him, removing the hood of the cloak, her wet brown locks falling with a wet slap against her front.  
  
Leos' blade flared a dark blue before he dropped it, thrusting his arm out to help her to her feet. She took it gratefully steadying herself brushing the dead foliage off the back of her garment.  
  
"What are you doing out this late anyway?" She asked, pushing her hair behind her ears, "I thought Aerin was the night owl of the family."  
  
The older twin shrugged and knelt down to pick up his fallen blade, wrapping it in a thick blanket and hefting it over his shoulder, accenting Rachel's point by yawning loud and blinking hard.  
  
"He is, but this is the only time I could find to practice without anyone suspecting anything."  
  
"Someday your mother's going to catch you with that thing, and then it's going to all over for you." Rachel commented, walking in stride with him as he began a slow gait toward the domestic area of the small island, "She's going to take that sword and slaughter you with it."  
  
Leos chuckled and rolled his eyes, shifting the sword to straddle his neck like a yoke.  
  
"Yeah, my mom with a sword... now there'd be a sight to see."  
  
"I wouldn't make fun, Leos; I've been told she was absolutely fearsome when she was our age."  
  
"You shouldn't believe everything YOUR mother tells you. Crazy Aunt Celeste has fed me many a story, most of which were too tall to be true."  
  
"I didn't hear it from my mother, I heard if from your father." She shot back, a smug look of satisfaction on her face.  
  
Leos chuckled, then stopped in his tracks, staring straightforward blankly for a moment while the hilt of the sword on his back glowed slightly.  
  
"Leos... what's wrong?"  
  
The dark haired teenager shook his head and stared around him, as if wondering if her were in a dream of reality.  
  
"I'm... not sure." He confessed, "I just had the weirdest feeling about my sister..."  
  
**********************************************************  
  
History will remember them as Melanites. To the Yafutomans they were known as the Dark Ones. In Nasr, they were the Black Folk; in Valua, the Night Landers. They knew themselves as the Melosians, the people of the Dark Moon.  
  
Melosia was a harsh land of eternal night. No ray of sunlight ever hit the continent, save but for one day of the year, during the solar eclipse. While most moons of Arcadia would block the light of the sun, the powers of the black moon would send it shining through. The Melosians considered this a Holy day, a gift from their moon, and worshiped the sun as a high deity. It wasn't until they had made contact with the rest of Arcadia that they discovered most lands received light twelve hours of every day. It was rumored that it was their jealousy that drove them to war.  
  
**************************************  
  
Selina was sleeping her way to Yafutoma. There was little else to do in the cramped cockpit of the small ship she'd found herself in. Not to mention the fact that she'd lost quite a bit of blood the night before and was exhausted. Markos didn't mind however. He was quite used to being alone. Not that he would have objected to her company of coarse...  
  
He was a strange man, even among his own people. He was driven by the same passions that they were, however he had come to see their self- destructive ways and worked hard to tame that part of him. He kept himself coil, locked tight within a box, always fearing the day when that box might be opened. For this he had been an outcast, living on the fringes of their civilization. It had been there that he had been able to develop the ship he now piloted, and hone other... skills as well.  
  
As he passed the great wall that surrounded the country of Yafutoma he could see the guards scuttle around, probably alarmed by the presence of the fast moving, sleek, black ship. He hoped he could land this thing before being shot out of the sky. He had no real means to communicate with the other ships, and something told him that the Yafutomans would be more forgiving if they could see the people in the ship, rather than just the craft itself.  
  
Ahead he could see the swirling mists that old of the multi-leveled series of waterfalls and interconnected islands that made up the oriental country. The sight filed him with an awe and sense of wonder that made him want to get out his paints and a new canvas, or at least a sketchpad and charcoal. He doubted that things would quiet down long enough for him to make a decent drawing however.  
  
As he neared the lowest pool of water, he eased back on the throttle letting it ease into the water and bump lightly against the dock. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, which had been groomed the night before, though now stuck out in various directions. His life was taking quite an interesting turn. Since he was old enough he'd spent his life in relative quiet and solitude. Now he was gallivanting around the globe with a beautiful girl, running from assassins who thought they were trying to save the world. He didn't know if he liked this... even though the company was infinitely better.  
  
He heard a harsh tapping and looked up through the tinted canopy to see a Yafutoman guard poking at it with his spear. Selina awoke to the sound with a gasp, sitting up straight and clutching the back of Markos' seat.  
  
"Where are we?"  
  
"Just landed in Yafutoma." He replied calmly, fingering the canopy release lever, "Watch your head."  
  
Selina ducked just in time as the top popped open and flew above her head, locking open behind her. She was about to push herself up and out of the ship, until she felt something pressing into her chest, just below the collarbone. Her initial reaction was to push it away, until the noticed that it was the point of a rather useful looking spear. Her eyes followed the shaft of the weapon until they finally met with the owner, an armored, tough looking man with yellow tinged skin.  
  
"You are trespassing on Yafutoman soil. Explain yourself or be skewered where you stand."  
  
Markos sighed and folded his hands above his head.  
  
"Tell your emperor that a Dark One has awakened, and would like to have a word with him." Markos reached into his pocket, extracting a perfectly round moon stone of dark brilliance, the sphere seeming to suck in all light around it like a black hole, "And show him this."  
  
The guard caught the stone with a look of surprise, forgetting the spear that he had been jabbing into Markos' chest just a moment earlier. He whispered something to the other three guards who lined the dock then scuttled off up the ramp, presumably to report to his ruler.  
  
"Dark One?" Selina asked quietly from behind him. Markos sighed again, not really feeling like explaining himself right now, but knowing that is was probably inevitable and needed.  
  
"Yes... that's what they call us here in Yafutoma." He answered, not turning around to face her, "Or it's what they used to call us anyway."  
  
"It sounds so... so... sinister."  
  
"It's meant to be." He said quickly, "Weren't you taught anything about the Melanites? Of your destiny?"  
  
"...no..."  
  
Markos didn't know what to say. He knew that she had been sheltered for most of her life, but why would her father withhold even the old stories of the Melosians and their war of conquest? Did he know of the destiny that she was called to? Did he think that keeping her ignorant could somehow change the events of the future, predestined for thousands of years?  
  
"What aren't you telling me Markos?" She asked, interrupting his thoughts. She had to be told sometime he supposed. But perhaps now wasn't the time.  
  
"We'll talk later, Selina." He answered finally, "I know I have a lot to answer for, but right now I think we have bigger concerns on our hands."  
  
The guard who had left earlier reappeared with impeccable timing, almost as if Markos himself had planned it that way. It saved him from having to sit in uncomfortable silence.  
  
"The Emperor would have an audience with you." He said in a commanding voice.  
  
"Of coarse he would." Markos said, an air of near spite edging into his voice.  
  
********************************************  
  
Her hair was her pride, dark and curly, running down to about the middle of her back. Usually it was worn in a low ponytail, two long bangs framing a beautiful face which had just started taking on the signs of her age. This day she pulled her hair back in a tight bun, working it up Yafutoman style with two chopsticks.  
  
She felt much older than she looked, truthfully. Much had happened in her life, things that would have driven most people to despair. But still she thrived, fashioning a life for herself and her family, content merely to be a mother to her three children, and wife to her husband.  
  
Jaycera sighed and gave herself one last look in the mirror before leaving the mirror. This was the day that her husband was to come home... but for some reason she couldn't help but feel slightly on edge.  
  
Maybe it was because Leos had come in late last night, despite his best efforts to hide the fact. She'd known that he'd been sneaking out for a while now, but she was also painfully aware of the fact that Celeste's daughter Rachel had been out as well. She didn't know for what reason he was staying out so late, but her mother's instinct was killing her, urging her to get to the bottom of it. But her son wasn't a child anymore. Already he and his twin brother were talking of leaving, of finding a life of their own soon. After all, their grandfather had become a legend at age seventeen, their father a hero ate age sixteen and married at age seventeen. At age sixteen themselves, they seemed to think it was their family right.  
  
She didn't know what she would do when they were gone. She'd spent twenty years of her life raising her children and doing the paperwork for their family business, Delasari Shipping, something she'd been doing since she was ten years old. Maybe she'd abandon the home, join Ryne on the ship for the rest of her days. That would be the only place she could think of where she'd ever be truly happy.  
  
She walked into her kitchen and began to absentmindedly pull out the ingredients for pancakes, something she knew Leos and Aerin would like. Hands that had been toughened long ago by sailing now worked nimbly cracking eggs and beating batter together in a mix, all the while stoking the fire in the oven to heat the surface of the range. Around her wrist, Selrea began to squeak hungrily as well, expanding and contracting to make her point more clear. Jay bent over to get a small jar of chams out of a low drawer, feeding two to the hungry creature.  
  
She had way too many things on her mind. The more she aged, the more she wondered about Ryne and the longevity that had been granted to him and her daughter. He'd barely aged a day since he was twenty. When they were together, they looked more like brother and sister, rather than father and daughter. Throw in the fact that he was handsome, famous, and constantly away from home, it was a wonder to her that he still remained a devoted husband and father. What was he going to do when she was gone? Would he remarry, or spend the rest of his life alone... would he be able to be alone?  
  
As she poured the batter onto a hot skillet, the two bedraggled twins stumbled their way into the kitchen, their dark hair matted on opposite sides of their heads. Jaycera smiled at the sight. As worried as she was about their leaving, they were still children yet. Hopefully they'd be able to mature normally... a chance she never had...  
  
**********************************************  
  
"Well, what do we do now?"  
  
Stalde paced the deck of his ship while Enyan sat at a small table with his head cradled atop his folded arms. He really had no clue what to do next. He really hadn't expected them to go flying through the Dark Rift. He didn't know of any ship that could, and he usually made it a priority to keep up on new technology. This had been something he'd never seen before, something almost reminiscent of the Old World. It didn't make any sense...  
  
"I've been sitting here all night; it'd be nice to know what we're going to do."  
  
"We're going to go to go around Cape Victory into Esperenza." Jonathon finally answered, stopping his pacing in front of the glass window of the cabin, his back to his companion.  
  
"We're going to go through the Rift?" the wiry professor asked, sitting up straight with his head cocked to the side, a worried expressing plastered on his face. "But that could take days, maybe even a week to get there. How do we even know they'll still be in Yafutoma?"  
  
"I don't, but I think that if they leave they'll try to go the Rift route."  
  
"But why? I mean they have a ship that can fly right through it without a hitch, why would they want to take the common route?"  
  
"Because, I think they'll want to lie low." Stalde answered, already moving toward the doorway to raise anchor, "They'll try to find another ship... one that's not so conspicuous."  
  
*****************************************************  
  
Jeyr stood on the bow of the Last Heir, his eyes closed, letting the wind caress his face and tease his medium length blonde hair. He was going back to the county of his birth. He wished the circumstances were better, but still... it was a home he lost when he was twelve, his parents hopping on board a mission to colonize Ixa'Taka. It had been foolhardy at best, but they'd managed to live there for three years before finally being all but wiped out by a nomadic warrior tribe.  
  
That had been nine years ago. Nine years since he'd hidden in a cabinet to escape the slaughter of the rest of the colony. Nine years since he'd escaped the fires that had been set upon his home of three years. Nine years since Ryne had rescued him for the smoldering wreckage of the colony and taken him under his wing, training him to be the best sailor he could be.  
  
The other men were constantly telling him that he was too happy. They didn't know a thing. They didn't know that he could still hear the screams of his mother as she was impaled upon the spear of an Ixa'Takan warrior. They didn't know that he could still smell the charred flesh of the villagers. They didn't know that sometimes he wept at night, silently in his bunk. They couldn't know. They wouldn't understand. The only one who could was the Captain.  
  
"You know we have a lookout to do this job, Jeyr."  
  
Jeyr never took his eyes off of the dark continent which laid on the horizon, watching as lightning flashed in the constant twilight that was Valua.  
  
"No matter how many times I go back, it still feels weird."  
  
Ryne placed a hand on the shoulder of his first mate, squeezing gently.  
  
"I know how you feel." He reassured him gently, "I feel that way every time I go pass through mid-ocean and see the ruins of Pirate's Isle."  
  
Not much else was exchanged between the two as they stood and watched the huge continent of Valua begin to loom ominously in front of them. No matter who ruled the continent, it would always appear to be a festering pot for evil itself. No amount of social reform would change that. Heck, the Valua Ryne grew up with had been ruled under Enrique, and he was about as far from evil as you could get. Still, it sent cold shivers up his spine every time.  
  
Valua had changed much in his lifetime. Not long after Ryne had married Jaycera, Enrique stepped down from the throne after setting into motion plans that would transform the monarchy into a republic. It had taken years for the seeds of democracy to finally take root, and they were even still trying to iron out some of the minor problems.  
  
Ahead the silhouette Imperial City could be seen in the distance, the constant flashes of lightning accenting the spires that thrust up into the clouds. If there was one thing that had changed about Valua in Ryne's lifetime, it was the structures. Twenty one years ago when Ryne had come here for refuge during his short stint as a hero the tallest building had been the palace that Enrique and the rest of the royal family lived in. That had since been torn down, to build the Senate Chambers. Since there was little room to expand horizontally, the city had been forced to grow upward, constructing skyscrapers in order to accommodate their rapid growth. Being the only capitalist nation had made it the business hub of the world.  
  
"Raise a white flag, Jeyr."  
  
"What?" The young first mate asked, shooting his captain a sidelong glance.  
  
"You know better than to question orders." Ryne scolded, looking at him sternly, "They're going to be expecting us, and I don't want them to think we're going to shoot up their precious city."  
  
Sure enough, moments after raising the flag, they were flanked by two Delphinus SP class ships, smaller, faster versions of the forty year old version that his father had once saved the world with. Even though somewhat scaled down, they were just as powerful as the first and were the greatest military presence in the skies.  
  
"Take care of my ship, Jeyr." Ryne commanded before taking a running jump over the railing, landing in a crouch on the deck of the warship, Valuan soldiers immediately swarmed out and surrounded him, clapping him in irons when he surrendered.  
  
***************************************  
  
"I don't know why you're here, but I don't have any business with you or your people, Dark One."  
  
Markos bit his cheek, lowering his eyes for a moment before responding. He had expected this kind of response, though he hadn't thought of anyway to counteract it.  
  
Yafutoma had been the first to feel the fury of his people, as it was the closest to their lands. Yafutoma had been a full continent once, instead of the scattered islands it was now. His people were to blame for breaking it apart. Apparently, they still remembered.  
  
"Listen, your Majesty." Markos implored, "I'm no spy, and in fact I'm only here to protect Selina Delasari."  
  
"Protect her from what?"  
  
"The Valuans are trying to kill her."  
  
Emperor Daigo mulled over this, his wrinkled face bunching up even more.  
  
"Why would the Valuans try to kill the granddaughter of the greatest hero Arcadia has ever known? Sounds like treachery to me."  
  
Markos sighed, trying to keep his temper in check, which was particularly hard when his insides felt like hot magma waiting to escape. His culture hadn't been particularly fond of Yafutomans either.  
  
"Why don't you just bring her in here and ask her yourself?"  
  
At this, Daigo's look grew suspicious, studying the young Melosian critically as if sizing up the potential threat.  
  
"I think not." He said finally, "There are many legends telling of your mental prowess. The reason we separated was to make sure she wasn't acting as your puppet." 


	9. Chapter 8: Indecision

Chapter 8 – Indecision  
  
Selina woke in a warm bed, the sunlight streaming through opened shutters accompanied by a gentle breeze that billowed through the satin curtains which hung atop her. She smiled contentedly, closing her eyes and running her fingers over the silk sheet on which she lay, relishing the smooth texture that was so hard to find in gritty land of Nasr. The air smelled damp and moist, probably because of the stream she could hear running through the room. The moving water kept it cool but comfortable when mixed with the warm beams of light which filtered in as well.  
  
In a moment of remembrance she ran her hand inside the silk sleeping gown she wore to touch the pink scar which ran horizontally over her side, just below the rib cage. She didn't feel any dried blood, which must have meant she cleaned it sometime in between being shuffled into the guest house and getting into bed. She certainly didn't remember it though. In fact, most her recent memories seemed to be somewhat hazy.  
  
"Milady?"  
  
Selina opened her eyes and looked toward the doorway, squinting her eyes against the light. A young Yafutoman girl, probably about sixteen or seventeen years of age, was framed in the middle of the opening, her arms buried deep within her massive sleeves. She was pretty in a unique kind of way, like Selina herself. Her long raven hair fell to about waist and was clasped into a low ponytail with a bronze circlet, her bangs short on her forehead with two long strands flowing in front of her ears and down her front. Her eyes however were a stunning indigo, the color taking her slightly off guard.  
  
"The Emperor has requested an audience with you."  
  
"Me?" Selina knew she shouldn't be particularly surprised; it was just that she'd never met any... royalty before. She knew her family had connections, there wasn't a person on the planet who didn't know her grandparents, but the surname which she'd taken from her mother wasn't all that well known. The Delasari's had only been mildly successful merchant trader, or so she'd been told for most of her life. "I don't have anything to wear..." was the only excuse she could come up with as she pulled herself up into a sitting position.  
  
"Don't worry about a thing milady, I took the liberty of taking the measurements from your dress and finding suitable clothing." the girl said, walking to the closet and pulling it open, "I think you'll find that most of it should fit you nicely."  
  
Selina smiled, studying the girl, "Wow, such great service." She said finally, getting off the bed and crossing to the girl, thrusting out her hand, "Selina Delasari, and who might you be?"  
  
The girl looked at the hand for a moment, then blushed and bowed deeply keeping her hands hidden inside her sleeves. "My name is Elysia."  
  
"Elysia, eh? That's a pretty name." She complimented, starting to shuffle through the various gowns that hung in the closet. "Doesn't sound very Yafutoman though."  
  
The girl's cheeks flushed even darker, contrasting her pale skin. "My father was Yafutoman... my mother... well... I don't know what my mother was. But it was she who named me."  
  
"Anyway, it suits you well."  
  
Selina pulled out a deep blue gown with deep white sleeves with baby blue accents. She was hoping the blue would bring out the accents of her eyes, while the white sleeves would compliment her hair. She held it up in front of her slim form, turning to the young Yafutoman.  
  
"Is this appropriate for a meeting with a king?"  
  
"It's lovely, miss."  
  
**********************************************  
  
Ryne shifted his weight trying to find a position that was a little more comfortable with his hands shackled behind him, but failing miserably. His Valuan captors weren't being very hospitable, but he supposed that was to be expected. He was probably public enemy number one, though he'd done nothing to deserve it. As angry as he thought he should feel at Valua, he couldn't seem to find it in himself to hate them. They were doing what they thought was the right thing. The person he was angriest with was himself.  
  
In his mind he kept replaying a scene. His daughter's face before he left her stranded in Nasrad. It was an expression of shock, of hopelessness, and even... hate. He couldn't let that be the last time he saw her. So this was what he had to do. He had to find some way to get to her, even if it meant relying on the people that were trying to kill her. He hoped that he still had some friends in high places...  
  
A bust of light hit his eyes suddenly as the door cracked open on its slightly rusted hinges. For a moment he couldn't see who it was who come, but slowly his eyes had adjusted to the light and he could see the form of a man in Valuan armor come in and kneel by his side. He noticed that while he still wore the full metal uniform, absent was the bulbous helmet. He was a kid, no older than nineteen he guessed, with closely cropped brown hair and large brown eyes.  
  
"Hey," he said, nudging him gently in the ribs with his fingers, "Are you awake?"  
  
"Yeah..." Ryne grunted, "That would be why my eyes are open."  
  
"I'm sorry, sir, my eyes are still adjusting to the light..."  
  
"Yeah, you and me both, kid."  
  
The young soldier circled around behind him and he could hear the ringing of metal on metal, a click, and then his hands popped free from the restricting shackles. Ryne rubbed his wrists, feeling the deep grooves that were etched in his reddened skin. He'd never been put in cuffs before and he hoped he'd never have to repeat the experience.  
  
"Trust me, eh?"  
  
The soldier looked at him warily, as if he hadn't slept in days. "Not particularly," he said simply, "but it's not my place to think about it. I'm just the guard, I don't really have a say in any of it."  
  
Ryne pushed himself off the ground, standing face to face with the young man. He looked him for a moment, his fierce green eyes penetrating, then softening into a sort of grin. He placed his hand on the shoulder piece of his armor.  
  
"It's alright, you probably shouldn't trust me." He said nonchalantly, "I am the enemy you know."  
  
"Not in all circles, sir."  
  
With that simple statement a face appeared in the doorframe that Ryne hadn't seen in years. He was heavier than when he last saw him and his auburn hair had begun showing traces of white, but there was no mistaking the deep brown eyes under that wrinkled brow. His face split into a wide smile as he was taken into a huge bear hug that reminded him just how long he'd been lying shackled on the floor of the ship.  
  
"Well, you haven't changed at all Sly."  
  
The larger man set him down, flashing a crooked grin. "Oh, you'd be surprised. I'm a respectable man; I even go by Wallin now."  
  
"Wallin?" Ryne cocked an eyebrow, shaking his head with amusement, "That's an awful name..."  
  
"Hey, that's the name my momma gave me," his old friend teased in mock- seriousness, "You're not exactly in the best position to be talking bad about other people's mothers."  
  
Ryne smiled. For a moment he'd almost forgotten that he was a prisoner of Valua for suspected terrorism. That was probably the purpose of his old friend being here. To either "pacify" him, or get him out of this mess. He hoped it was the later, but with the betrayal of Rafe Falloy still fresh in his mind he was careful not to get his hopes up.  
  
"So, what are you doing here Wallin?"  
  
"I was hoping you could answer the same question, Ry." Wallin answered slickly, falling into the senatorial role he'd been elected into four years prior, "What are you doing here?"  
  
Ryne heaved a deep sigh. To be completely honest, he didn't know exactly why he was here. He was just getting to the source of the problem. He hadn't formulated any plans as to what he was going to do once he got there. Sweet talk the Chief of State? Unlikely. Rage in, guns blazing, swords ringing, taking out everyone connected to the assassination attempt? The only thing that would accomplish would be practice for them to take out one Silvite before the last...  
  
"I'm here to get answers." Was what he finally told his old friend. Wallin nodded his affirmation, patting the younger man on the shoulder.  
  
"I understand," He said slowly, "If it were my daughter..."  
  
"You're married?" Ryne interrupted, grinning.  
  
"Hey, believe it or not, women appreciate a man who can make 'em laugh."  
  
********************************************************  
  
He was late. Jaycera stood out on the widow's watch searching the skies for something, anything that would signal the return of her husband. It was an old habit she'd picked up from her mother and one her conscious mind despised. She should have more faith that the moons would bring her husband home. Worrying about something that wasn't in her power to change was pointless. But still, here she stood.  
  
Below she could see her twin suns sparring out by the small pond, Celeste's daughter sitting at the sidelines. She couldn't help but wonder if this was a symbolic match of sorts. Their antics to try and win the heart of the brown eyed girl was a secret only to the trio... or maybe just the twins themselves. Something told her that Rachel knew too well what they were going through. She could see it in the weight she seemed to carry. The older they got, the bigger the beast grew that would devour their hearts. She could see it, but was powerless, and that killed her.  
  
So many things to worry about...  
  
She hadn't heard from Selina in months now. It comforted her a little to know that Ryne might be with her and forgetting about the time. But then again, something might be wrong.  
  
That was when she spotted it. The great wooden bow at first, then the sails, the great white sails. As it neared she could see the flag, a white background with a blue handprint with a white circle in the middle of the palm and small white triangles bursting forth from it. She had designed it herself, based on the silver crystal embedded in her husband's right hand. It was this distinctive symbol that kept pirates away and now gave her hope.  
  
She watched as it as it grew larger and larger, waiting for it to pull up to the dock before she burst away from the railing which she had been grasping white knuckled. She cleared through the front door, making a beeline for the dock as Ryne's first mate Jeyr hopped over the side to moor the Last Heir to the dock. She slowed when she saw him. Something was wrong. Ry was always the first one off the vessel when it came home, and when she finally caught the young man's eye her suspicions were confirmed.  
  
"What's happened, Jeyr?" She asked slowly, her hand wandering up to her neck and clenching a fist-full of blouse, "Where is my husband?"  
  
*************************************************  
  
Selina walked timidly into the Imperial Throne Room, gazing in awe at the beauty of it all. Almost everything in the room seemed to be made of gold, including a long dragon that bordered the edge of the ceiling. On a dais in the middle of it all sat a fierce looking man older than her grandfather. A man who knew her grandfather if memory served her correctly, but didn't everyone? To his left were three aides, who stood waiting with parchment, ink and quills. To his right sat the heir to the throne, a handsome young man in his mid twenties with several tattoos on his bare chest.  
  
Her first instinct was to fall face-forward onto the marble floor before the throne, so she did such. The Emperor waited for a moment before a deep chuckle resounded throughout the room.  
  
"I see you've been taught some manners," He said shaking his head, "I can't imagine that it came from your grandfather... or the company you travel with."  
  
Selina lifted her head, her blue-green eyes questioning.  
  
"You don't have to bow to me," He said, all traces of ferocity she saw there earlier erased by a wide grin. "I don't even make my own people bow."  
  
Selina got off the ground and smiled appreciatively. "I'm sorry; it's just that I've never met an emperor of anything before."  
  
"That's alright, I'm sure old Vyse met enough royalty for your entire family line." Selina merely nodded, not really knowing what to say. The old ruler seemed to sense her discomfort, "I'm going to get right to the point Selina. I think you may be in over your head."  
  
"To tell you the truth, I don't even know what I'm in, sir." She said, "All I know is that a couple days ago some people were trying to kill me."  
  
"And you don't know why?" Daigo asked, his head cocked slightly, "No one ever told you?"  
  
Selina paused, cocking her head slightly but keeping her eyes trained on this old man, "What are you talking about?"  
  
"Your Destiny, Selina Delasari," He said, holding his brown eyes to hers, "your destiny."  
  
*******************************************************  
  
Markos paced about in his room, running his fingers through his hair, which was beginning to take on a life all its own. He found himself pulling it back into his old familiar short ponytail, which he'd cut off when he left his home. He hadn't realized until now that his nervous habit was to play with it. He hadn't had much cause to be nervous before.  
  
He could hear everything that was going on in the Emperor's throne room. It was rampaging through his head like a wildfire in the Ixa'Takan wilderness. If he concentrated hard enough he'd be able to see the room through the eyes of anyone he chose. Right now he was using Selina's ears, trying his best not to slip into her thought stream, which was becoming increasingly difficult with the onslaught flood of information that was streaming at her.  
  
He didn't know what to think for himself at the moment. He'd known, of coarse, that Selina knew nothing of the prophesies concerning her, and had planned on keeping it that way. Now that she knew, things were going to be more difficult.  
  
But then again, he seemed to thrive on adversity...  
  
***********************************************  
  
Leos' first thought was to grab his family's sword. His thoughts were jumbled and erratic, but all kept coming back to the same thing. His father was being held captive by the Valuans, and he had to do everything in his power to get him back. A distant memory nagged in the back of his mind, something his grandfather had told him long ago, giving him a strange sense of déjà vu. But he couldn't concentrate on that right now, he had to run.  
  
He gritted his teeth and ran to the last heir, bounding up the ramp and throwing his small satchel and weapon on the deck and bursting into the captain's quarters where his mother, Jeyr, and Celeste were. They didn't look in the least bit surprised to see him, his mother least of all. She looked at him for a moment with her icy blue gaze, then pulled back the open chair beside her.  
  
"Sit down, calm down," was all she said to him, turning back to the other two people in the room who were seated on the opposite side.  
  
"All I'm saying is that he knew what he was doing," Jeyr continued, looking right at Jay, "He turned himself in of his own accord; I don't think he would want us to go after him, guns blazing."  
  
"I agree," Celeste added, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms, "We don't even know what they plan on doing with him, and it's not like they're going to execute him."  
  
"And what would we do anyway," Jeyr piped up again, "Bust him out of the Grand Fortress?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
All eyes turned to Leos, who had been watching the exchange silently with a rising frustration. But as soon as he heard Jeyr's last statement, his grandfather's old tale sprung back to life. He had saved his father from Valua. And escaped the Grand Fortress... twice.  
  
"Grandpa did it, why can't we?" he said after a moment, folding his arms across his chest.  
  
"Leos, it's not the same," Selina said softly, in a firm but gentle voice that only mothers can manage, "Your grandfather escaped forty years ago. Valua's changed drastically in my own lifetime; I can only imagine what it was like before. The fortress was one of the only things on Valua practically untouched by the Rains, and was said to be impregnable before Vyse managed to get out."  
  
"Not to mention that no one's ever broken out since." Jeyr added, "You think they didn't learn anything from those two escapes?"  
  
"Well we can't just sit here!" Leos' fist crashed onto the table, though few looked surprised at the sudden outburst.  
  
At that moment the door creaked open softly, a gentle contrast to the violent outburst from the enraged young man. Aerin and Rachel poked their heads in then slipped through the crack, Aerin shutting the door behind him and taking a seat beside his twin brother, the fourteen year old girl sitting beside her constantly stoic mother.  
  
"What'd I miss?" The longer haired of the two boys asked, learning forward on the table to see both his mother and brother.  
  
"Nothing," Leos answered, sighing, folding his arms across his chest and sitting back in his seat low, "Basically that we're not going to do anything to get Dad back."  
  
"No one said we weren't going to do something Leos," Jaycera said calmly, "We just can't rush in recklessly. We need to send someone in to gauge the situation. Find out if he really is in any trouble."  
  
"The trouble is most of us are pretty well known in Valua," Celeste cut in, "So we can't send the Last Heir or any of her crew..."  
  
"Which is why you need us..." Rachel said meekly. All eyes turned to her now, the young brunette seeming to shirk even smaller in the limelight. "Aerin and Leos are known in Valua only by name, if at all, and I virtually don't exist. We can get in, get news, then come back if Ryne is in trouble."  
  
There was silence for only a moment as all the adults looked at her as if she had gone insane, the twins trying to hide their own excitement at the prospect. However, one look at their mother dashed any hope that they had been fostering.  
  
"No way," She said simply, shooting daring looks at her two sons, "I am not going to send three unsupervised children into Imperial City. Whatever trouble my husband has gotten himself into, it's not worth that risk by any stretch of the mind."  
  
"Mom!" Leos protested, hunching up his shoulders, "You and dad were sixteen when you were trying to save grandma and grandpa!"  
  
"Neither of us had parents at that time," Jaycera glared at the older twin, her voice becoming icy, "The situation was totally different, Leos."  
  
"It's not a bad plan, Jay..." Celeste said, cocking her head to look at her long-time friend. Jaycera started to protest, but the last Moon Silvite held up one finger and continued, "I'd only make one change... you should go too. While the kids are there incognito gaining information, you should go and see if they'll let you, his wife, in to see Ry. If they do, you can find out first-hand what's going on."  
  
"But won't they take her too?" Aerin asked, pursing his lips and resting his cheek on his palm.  
  
"They can't, at least not without incriminating evidence," Jeyr said, inserting himself back into the conversation, "Valua is a Republic now. They can't just arrest anyone they want without reason."  
  
Jaycera looked at everyone seated around the table one by one, meeting their eyes to hers before leaning back in her chair, sighing deeply. The rest waited for her to say something, the teenagers most of all. She closed her eyes, rubbing them with her thumb and forefinger for a moment, searching her mind for a legitimate excuse to keep her children out of this.  
  
"Alright..." She said through gritted teeth, relenting for once in her life, "We'll leave tomorrow morning in the Last Heir, moor at Sailor's Isle, and buy a small ship in Rachel's name to take to Valua."  
  
*********************************************************  
  
"So let me get this straight," Selina said slowly, biting her thumbnail nervously, "The Valuan Republic is trying to kill me because of some prophesy made by a Silvite seer some thousands of years ago, that says that I, Selina Delasari, will one day bring ruin to the entire planet?"  
  
"Yes, that's right." The Emperor looked grim as he nodded his affirmation.  
  
"And Markos, the man I've been gallivanting across the skies with, is a member of a 'thought to be extinct race' of people known as the Melosians, who are the same people I'm supposed to take over the world with."  
  
"Right again."  
  
"Uh huh..." Selina propped her elbow on the arm of the seat she'd been provided with about fifteen minutes ago, resting her head on her palm, "And there's nothing anyone can do to stop it, eh?"  
  
"Not that I am aware."  
  
"Right..." She shook her head, bit her lower lip, then pushed herself up out of her chair, "Can I talk to Markos about all this?"  
  
Daigo rubbed the side of his face then rubbed the bridge of his nose between his eyes, "Yes, you may. But I bid you to guard your mind around him. His people have the tendency to read and sometimes dominate minds. Question even thoughts you think are your own."  
  
*************************************************  
  
In the old world, the people of the Black Moon were extremely devoted to their moon and the religious practices thereof. While the rest of Arcadia was experiencing a technological revolution, the Melanites were going through a spiritual revolution. Their moon granted them great mental powers in this time through their dedication and service to it. It was because of this gift that they gained the technology of flight, from the mind an engineer who'd stumbled upon their lands.  
  
It was not long before they left the shadows and came into the sunlight. 


	10. Chapter 9: Church and State

Chapter 9 – Church and State

Leos walked down the crowded streets of Imperial city under a thick green cloak which was dripping with the rain that seemed to never end in this miserable country. Behind him trailed two other cloaked figures, weaving through the masses of people. Leos stopped for a moment, finding shelter under a set of wide eaves, pulling out a map of the city and looking it over.

"Aerin, what road are we on again?"

"Trolley." His twin answered, his point accented by the distant bell of the pulley-car.

Leos found the road and traced their route with his finger.

"Great, we're about a ten minute walk from the inn we're staying at."

They'd chosen to stay at the inn directly across the street from the courthouse. It was where they quartered defendant's families, jury members, and the press during high profile cases. In the case of his father, it would probably go unnoticed. They'd spent much of the day scrounging for information from the general populous and most seemed to be unaware. They'd discovered the court date from a conversation between two peace officers in a local pub. It would be held in two days.

As they walked on in silence he could see the hanging sign now, its bright red letters calling out "The Big House."

"Clever name." Rachel said, as she fell into step beside him. Leos looked at her and nodded before pushing the glass and wooden door aside as they stepped into a well lit interior. To the left there was a check-in counter, which was barred in. A thin young man in a button-up shirt sat behind it, scrawling on a piece of loose paper. His brown hair was somewhat greasy and flopped into his eyes in a rough bowl cut. When he saw them enter he stuffed the paper under the desk somewhere, pulling up a large, leather bound book.

"Room for three?" he asked, pushing the hair out his eyes, already beginning to fill in some of the necessary information.

"Yes please." Aerin answered, pulling a sack of gold out from under his cloak.

"That'll be two hundred." The boy said, eyeing the bag, "But first I'm going to need a name."

"Rachel Robert." The girl said, stepping forward and pulling the hood of the cloak off her head.

"Alright, I've got you in a two bed room on the second floor, 207" the boy said pulling a key out from a drawer under the desk in exchange for two large hundred piece coins.

Rachel smiled at him, mouthed the words "thank you" and headed for the stairs. Leos and Aerin trailed after her, their packs bouncing on their backs as they headed up to the second floor.

"I wonder if there's room service..." Aerin wondered audibly as they reached the hallway and started watching for their number. "Or those little candies on the pillows..."

Rachel stopped in front their room, waiting for Aerin who had to key.

"Or at least a nice view." He finished, stepping into the darkened room. "Where's the lamp in here?"

"Electric lighting, Bro." Leos said, pressing a large button on the wall that sent the lights flickering to life, illuminating the room.

The two beds were lofted on top of each other on a large metal frame that was pressed up against the right wall. The walls themselves were painted like cinderblocks. Rachel walked to the far wall and pulled back the curtains that covered the windows, revealing two inch metal bars partially blocking their view of the court house.

"Cute," was all she had to say, letting her pack fall to the ground.

* * *

Jaycera walked into the dimly lit hallway, one of the electric bulbs flickering ominously. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, turning to the guard who was closing the large metal door behind her.

"Which cell is he in?"

"Follow me... stay quiet. The last thing some of these men need to see is a woman."

The guard led the way through the jungle of metal bars and concrete. She glanced into the cells of the other inmates as they slept fitfully on the raised outcroppings that lined their cells. Finally they reached the end of the hall where the solitary confinement rooms were located. The guard stopped at the second to last cell, inserting the key and turning it with a click, the door squeaking on its metal hinges.

Ryne was lying in the middle of the floor, sleeping on his side, cradling his head in a crooked arm. He was wearing a simple white undershirt and cotton pants, also sporting a week's worth of a white beard. Jaycera stood there looking at him for a moment, her memory flashing to the first time she'd laid eyes on this man. He had been lying stranded on a deserted island which had later become their home. And aside from the beard, he didn't look much older.

She knelt at his side, fighting back tears. She gently placed a hand on his shoulder, hearing the sharp intake of breath as he gasped into consciousness, then pushed his shoulder to the cold floor below, pinning him to the ground before planting an urgent, hungry kiss on his lips. When she broke it and pulled away she saw his vibrant green eyes staring back at her, telling her more than he'd ever say.

"Hello to you too," He said finally, grinning slyly, "Is this how you greet all criminals?"

The guard, who was still in the doorframe, laughed heartily. "Do you want me to leave you two alone?"

Ryne craned his neck to look up at him, "Yeah, thanks Friel, that'd be great."

"I'll just leave the door open; I trust you can guard yourselves."

"Thanks again."

Friel nodded and walked off, his heavy footsteps echoing through the hall. Jaycera sat upright and looked at the open door, then back to her husband.

"Pretty lax with the security around here, eh?"

"No," Ryne laughed, pushing himself into a sitting position, "I just have an understanding with some of the guards around here. Being a great guy and having some sort of fame has some perks I guess."

He didn't say anymore, just looked at his wife as if he hadn't seen her in years. Her long, dark, curly ponytail was pleated into a braid that hung down to her waist, except for the bangs that lined her face. She looked much the same as when he'd met her, except for the lines of worry which were beginning to etch themselves into her brow, around her lips, and around her eyes, accenting their stunning blue depths. He reached out a hand and traced those lines with his fingertip.

"Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?"

She reached up and took his hand in her own, holding it tightly, interlocking her fingers with his.

"I wouldn't care what you told me, as long as I got to hear your voice..."

He smiled and pulled her into a tight embrace, kissing her neck before loosening enough to press his forehead against hers.

"How are we planning on getting me out of here?"

* * *

Selina hesitated in front of the door where Markos was being held. It had taken her days to work up the courage to come here at all. Beside her stood two guards in traditional Yafutoman armor, but instead of the long bladed staffs the guards usually carried, they held two rather large guns. She looked at them for a moment, then lifted her arm to knock, only to have the door slip out of reach as it opened, showing a stoic looking Melosian. Selina was startled, but only for a moment, regaining her composure quickly.

"Can I come in?" She asked, avoiding the dark blue hue of his eyes.

"Are you sure you want to?" he said slowly, "After all, you'd be leaving yourself open to my mind."

As he finished the sentence he projected an image into her mind so forcefully she gasped and stumbled backward. The picture of was herself, clothed in black with a large sword held high above her head, her eyes shining red with flame as she stood with her heel on the planet of Arcadia.

She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the image, but unable to do so. It was now burned into her mind. Markos turned on his heel and walked further into the guest home where he was being held. Selina rubbed her eyes and followed him inside.

"What was that?" she asked finally as she trailed him to the kitchen.

Markos poured himself a glass of water, sipping it slowly before answering, "That is your future, Selina."

The young Silvite blinked hard a couple times before leaning against the wall and staring blankly for a moment, still haunted by the image. Finally her eyes focused on the man before her, noticing that his eyes were upon her as well, staring intently. She almost felt violated.

"This is the same vision that The Seer had, thousands of years ago."

"So it's true..." she whispered softly to herself, sliding down the wall slowly and pulling her knees up to her chest. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"

Markos sighed and sat down on the floor next to her, folding his arms across his raised knees.

"I can tell you why your father never told you."

She looked over at him, a confused and slightly accusing look on her face, "How do you know what my father was thinking?"

"He was there, when we were fleeing Nasrad. My mind brushed his when he summoned the power of the moons to defeat those shadow warriors." Selina's eyes widened for a moment, but she stayed silent, waiting. "He never told you because he wanted you to write your own destiny, not conform to a path already laid out for you."

Selina finally found it in herself to look into his dark blue eyes, finding comfort there and appreciating it. She smiled and leaned her small frame against his, resting her head on his shoulder. He did nothing, neither acknowledging, nor denying this gesture.

"These people think you're evil." She said finally.

"I know."

"Are they right?"

Markos inhaled deeply, pushing the air back out through pursed lips. He'd been expecting this question, but he still hadn't figured out how to answer it.

"By what standard should we measure evil?" he said finally. "Who set the social norms that define good and evil? It is society as a whole that decides. My people have been abandoned by that global society, which is why to some we may appear to be evil... when in fact we follow a different set of social and moral codes and values."

"What do you mean?"

"For example, here in Yafutoma, honor is of highest social value. In Valua, power and intelligence are important traits. And among the sailors, loyalty and trust are paramount."

"What values do your people hold then?"

"Passion, above all else," he said without hesitation, "When we want something, we pursue it with passion and tenacity, until we are beaten or it is ours. This full, unbridled passion is frowned up in the rest of the global society, which is why we were, and are, thought to be evil."

Selina looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

"You've never struck me as the 'passionate' type, Markos."

"A fact I'm very proud of." He said slowly, "Uncontrolled passion is a dangerous thing. If left to its own devices it would control and consume a person until they are lost to all but itself."

* * *

"So, is there any reason why we should bust you out of here?" Jaycera asked, running her fingers through her husband's hair. His head lay in her lap comfortably as she played with his scalp, "Leos is itching to do a repeat of your father's little stunt."

"You did tell him that this was over forty years ago, right?"

"I tried, but he never seems to listen."

"Yeah, they never seem to listen, do they?" Ryne rested his hands on his stomach, twiddling his thumbs, "We got a son who wants to break in an out of prisons and a daughter who's supposed to take over the world."

A distant creaking door interrupted the short silence between them. Someone had entered one of the outer doors that led to the cells, two sets of footfalls resounding through the brick, mortar, and steel walls.

"At least Aerin's turning out all right."

Ryne chortled, the laugh coming more out of his nose than his mouth. He sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing them with his thumb and index finger, as if that action would massage his eyes into clarity.

"No, there should be no reason to bust me out of here." He said slowly, as if he weren't totally sure of this statement, "Wallin said he'd be able to pull some political strings. But after Rafe... I don't know what to expect from Valuans anymore."

"Well, I'll tell you one thing you can expect," came a new voice, strong and reassuring, "We always finish what we start."

Jaycera looked up at Wallin, smiling widely as Ryne lifted his head out of her lap and went up into a cross legged sitting position. His face was painted with a grin that was almost too natural, half forgetting the last sentence that came out of his mouth. No wonder the man was such a good politician.

"I'm sorry, was I interrupting anything?" He asked looking over Jay with a goofy smile, then back to Ryne.

"Nothing you can't get in on." Ry said, patting the concrete floor beside him, inviting him to sit, "I'd get you a chair but my skills as a host are lacking of late."

"It's ok, I'd rather stand anyway." He said, running his hands down the sides of his brown jacket and pants, "The little lady just pressed them for me an hour ago."

"Sly Daragain!" Jaycera exclaimed loudly, her eyes shimmering with delight, "Who made an honest man out of you?"

Their old friend laughed, the small bit of paunch he'd accumulated over the years wagging over his tightly stretched belt.

"Well, I don't know about honest, I AM a lawyer you know..." his voice trailed off mysteriously, "YOUR lawyer I might add. How much am I going to have to stretch the law?"

The tone of the conversation seamlessly shifted from humor to business, in a way that only Wallin could have managed. His charisma had gotten him somewhere in the rising power of the Republic of Valua. He was widely regarded to be one of the top lawyers in the nation, losing only three cases out of a hundred in the past years. His smooth speech, clever tongue, and infernal wit kept the jury on his side, while his keen intelligence shifted the facts to favor his side. It was well known that a few of his clients had been undeniably guilty. Of course, thanks to the ideal known as double jeopardy, they were allowed to stay in the graces of the justice system.

"I doubt you're going to have to do much." Ryne answered, "Unless your professional opinion forbids it, I'd like to get diplomatic immunity."

Wallin clicked his tongue thoughtfully, checking over the facts as he knew them in his head.

"Shouldn't be too hard." He said finally, "The records show that you did not, in fact, fire any weaponry upon arrival into Valuan airspace. And the fact that you've been so well behaved during your stay here should speak well." Wallin chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before continuing, "As a matter of fact, I can't find any reason why they should have arrested you in the first place. You've shown no record of past enmity toward Valua, you've never harmed a Valuan citizen, you've never-"

"-but I have, Sly." Ryne interrupted, "In Nasrad, I killed two of your shadow warriors..."

Wallin stopped cold, his brow bunching over hazel eyes, his mouth pinching together tightly. "Ryne, Valua doesn't officially employ shadow warriors anymore. The whole training program was abandoned. Assassination was voted upon by the Senate as 'inhumane'."

Ryne mouth gaped open slightly, his eyes turning from Wallin and glazing over into unfocused thought. He started to chew absentmindedly on his own tongue, leaning backwards onto his hands.

"But Rafe..."

"You saw Rafe?" Wallin asked, a little too excitedly. Ryne looked back at him with a frown.

"Yeah, he was the one leading the group that tried to kill my daughter--"

"—someone tried to KILL Selina?" Wallin interjected, the shock evident by his slacking jaw. Ryne cocked his head slightly, biting his bottom lip softly.

"Yeah, that's the reason I came to Valua." He said slowly, then continued when he saw further explanation was warranted, "Selina was attacked by a small group of shadow warriors in Nasrad more than a week ago. I killed two of them in the city, and tracked down the others, finding Rafe to be their squad leader. I assumed that Valua was behind the attack so I came to find some answers, only to be arrested."

Wallin stood for a moment, a blank stare on his face as if he'd retreated into himself. Then he shook his head and sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall. He rubbed his smooth cheek before looking back to Ryne and Jay.

"Why would the Navy arrest you though? Shadow Warriors haven't been used for years, and aren't a part of the Valuan militaristic forces. Those had to be mercenaries you dealt with, who shouldn't have had any contact whatsoever with Valua."

"What about the Nasultan? What if he recognized the Shadow Warriors and sent word of their death by my hands?"

"He still doesn't trust Valua. In fact, most of the people who saw you kill them probably thought you did it to defend their city. He'd probably support your attacking Imperial City."

"What happened to Rafe?" Jaycera asked, taking in the information flooding her and beginning to form some ideas of her own, "You seemed surprised to hear that he'd been seen. Why?"

"I haven't seen Rafe in nearly fourteen years," Wallin sighed, "Neither has any one else. The last I'd heard was that after we'd returned the last Silvite War he'd become extremely active in Church of the Moons. He'd become a priest or something..."

"That's it." Jaycera said, "It's the church. The church is trying to kill my baby."

Ryne was silent, the truth slowly beginning to dawn on him. Wallin however, who never considered himself much of a religious man, was thoroughly confused by this notion.

"Why would the church want to kill Selina? I thought they were all about 'peace', 'love', 'harmony' and all that other mushy crap."

Ryne sat up straight, looking Wallin in the eyes gravely.

"Have you ever heard of the Prophecy of the Seer?"

* * *

Enyan and Stalde sat in a small bar in Esperenza, eating the best kabal skewers either had ever tasted, though neither was dwelling on this fact. They'd been waiting in this town for too long. Stalde was getting impatient. Enyan was just bored. Despite the people's attempts at advertising a new "prosperous" Esperenza, the town was still pretty much a dump. Stalde noticed that there seemed to be more people, but other than that it was still the rusty, semi-industrial town he'd frequented during his younger days as a mercenary.

Enyan went to push his glassed back up onto his nose, only to notice that he'd rubbed some of the spicy sauce from the skewer onto his lenses. He frowned and took them off, rubbing them on a napkin. Then, still not satisfied, he finished the job with his own shirt then perched them back on his nose.

Stalde was looking out the window, watching a couple of dark skinned kids kick a ball around with a pale boy and his pet huskra. The innocence of the moment dulled the frustration that was beginning to form a knot in his neck. He'd wanted to try to catch the girl by running through the safe route in the Black Rift, but apparently the rift had been acting more violently lately. The safe route was no longer safe, and had in fact devoured three trade ships already. And so they were stuck here

He was wrestling with the idea of telling his younger companion everything. He didn't really know why he'd requested the young man's presence for this murderous mission. He certainly wasn't equipped to lend a hand in dealing out the death that the job required. He was probably squeamish just at the sight of blood.

Why then, was he here? What was he trying to accomplish by bringing along this religious scholar?

Perhaps to satisfy his own conscience. Before the Shadow Warriors, he hadn't seen death since... well, he didn't particularly want to dwell on that. But the thought of killing a young woman was beginning to unsettle his stomach. Perhaps he thought that Enyan could give him some sort of divine justification.

The image of image of the Seer's prophecy kept circling back into his brain, along with something Enyan said weeks ago about the way she held her sword and uncertainty. He'd forgotten up until that point. Maybe this was what was haunting him. The thought that maybe this wasn't her destiny after all. It didn't make sense for a destiny to be uncertain.

"We're leaving Enyan."

The younger man wiped his mouth on his sleeve, leaving a maroon smear down its length.

"Where are we going?"

"Back to Imperial City." He answered, leaving his half eaten plate of kabal skewers lying on the china plate and walking out the double door, hearing the religion professor clamor after him.

"Why?" Enyan asked as he caught up, kicking dust into the air.

"Because we need to study," He said walking briskly toward the dock. "I need some assurance. And I need to catch you up on a couple things too..."

* * *

In the height of the Melosian society there was no word for "war". Their closest equivalent was the word "vengeance", which was one of the main pillars of their culture. Every injustice was pursued until it had been repaid. The problem was it was hardly ever repaid equally, creating the need for revenge on the receiver's behalf. The cycle of vengeance consumed them whole, devoting all of their passion to devising ways to pay back those who wronged them. They became the most innovative weapon designers of their time.

When they found out that their Sun God had wronged them, they sought vengeance in the only way they knew how. They decided to punish it by killing off those who were in its favor.

However, not even this grand pursuit could distract them for long against their own personal vendettas. It was then that one man realized that in order to achieve this Grand Vengeance his people would have to be united...


	11. A Comback Preview

PREVIEW OF CHAPTER 10 –

I thought I was done. Maybe there's still more tales of Selina, Markos, Ryne, and company left in me…

Chapter 10 – Parallel

Emperor Daigo was not happy. He hadn't been happy in years, to tell the truth, ever since his body grew old and tired while his mind remained sharp enough to realize and resent his fragility. Maybe, if he was lucky, he would keel over sometime in the night and leave this whole Melosian business to his son. Oh, he'd love that, the little tyrant. Ruthlessness aside, Jai-Den would turn that iron fist against the threat lurking at their door, finishing what those dark people had begun so long ago…

He pressed his hands against his temples, rubbing gently. Maybe after the inevitable war his people would rise up against Jai-Den and form a democracy on the heels of the beautifully blossomed Valua.

"Emperor Daigo, sir."

The old man left his ponderings to look at the young soldier who had been admitted into his presence. Oh yes… the Melosian boy's guard.

"Speak your peace."

The guard stiffened visibly, "Sir, I was told to report to you concerning orders of the Dark One's execution."

_Execution?_

"Who said anything about killing anyone?" Daigo asked, his tone light enough to not sound chiding.

"Sir, the guards are leery about holding him here." The young soldier continued, "It was assumed that we would remove the threat to the Dynasty by execution."

Daigo sighed deeply. Whenever people started thinking as a group, it always seemed to turn to killing. Violence was _always_ the answer. "I have said nothing about executing the prisoner, nor do I intend to." He said, clearly, calmly. "If any blood is to be shed on Yafutoman soil it is because I have failed to do my sacred task in protecting the people and have fallen on my own sword."

The guard hesitated, taken aback. His leather armor squeaked as he shifted on his feet. "But Sir, we have all heard the stories since we were young. Not even the strong minded can hold off for long. He'll make slaves of us by the week's end-"

"-I suppose he can also spit fire from his buttocks and spear the stars with the tips of his hair." Daigo interrupted, his voice mild. The soldier might well be right, but there was no use in fueling the fire of wives' tales and spreading panic. "Don't repeat what you've said to anyone. And if you hear it from anyone else, send them to me that I may tell them likewise. Let us nip this bud before it ripens into a fruit of chaos."

The guard, realizing that he'd just been given orders, snapped his arms to his sides, bowing at waist before shuffling out of the ornate doors. Daigo closed his eyes and sank back into his royal cushion. _Something_ was going to have to be done, and it needed to be done soon. He didn't want the Dark One going about his mischief unchecked.

The boy said he was protecting her from Valua. Valua was, of course, trying to keep the prophecy from coming to pass. Was the boy aware of the prophecy? Did he _want_ Selina to rule Arcadia?

Daigo bit down on the inside of his cheek. Vyse had been a good friend to him once, a lifetime ago. Did his loyalty to an old friend supercede an action that might save the world?

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Markos leaned against the cool stone wall, wishing its temperature would bleed right through to his seething mind. Though his breathing was smooth and regular and his posture relaxed and calm it seemed as though all he could see was flames. Flames that were licking up the iron bars that held him in prison, flames running up and down the complex swirls on the fingertips of the guard and eating them black, flames heating rock the rock wall behind him to the boiling point. As well as he could see it all in his mind's eye, the only damage he actually did was to soften the tip of the guard's gun, just a little.

He could _hear_ the Emperor's internal dialogue, and knew that with just the right push he would be able to leave this land freely with Selina and also with Daigo's blessing. But that would only spark a revolution. His own son would rise up against him and he would have all of Yafutoma at his back. The Emperor was a good man and Markos didn't want any harm done to him, even though he was now cementing in his mind the order to have him killed... even though he was still toying with the idea of finishing Valua's job and offing Selina.

If he was going to get out of here he needed to do it soon. But first he needed to put a mental harness on his instinctual rage. He was going to need to be able to control it for what he was about to do…

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Selina sat on her mattress, back against the headboard, knees pulled up to her chest, hugging them tightly. She could see visions of herself crossing her mind and in all of them she held a sword. In some of them she buried it in the ground at her feet. In others she raised it against a vast fleet of Valuan warships. In still others she plunged the tip into the stomach of her mother… father… brothers… Markos… and herself. Sometimes she simply sheathed it at her side. But the sword never left her.

She snapped her head toward the door, where a couple of guards wearing scaled armor had taken up a post. The Emperor had sent guards? Did he really think that Markos was going to come busting in here and… and what? Take her away? She _wanted_ to leave, _wanted _to see Markos. He knew something about her that she needed to know and was a representative of the people she was apparently going to use to take over the world.

Take over the world… She hadn't even wanted to leave home, why would she want to take over the world?

Suddenly she was overtaken by the irresistible urge to tuck and roll off of the bed into a darkened corner of the room just as the two guards that had been standing outside her door slipped in quietly and filled her down bed with bullets. Feathers filled the room before they realized that she wasn't in it. The last thing they saw was a flash of blue light from the far corner before the feathers turned into a white vortex that swept toward them, filling their lungs with down. They died without a sound.

Selina stood, the blue light between her eyes fading as she walked cautiously through the room, slipping her feet into a pair of sandals before fleeing into the night. She ran with reckless abandon down the cobbled pathways, battling the insanity that seemed intent on devouring her lately.

_Dive to the right_.

She obeyed the words in her mind, almost grateful for a thought she knew wasn't hers. She had just enough time to find some cover behind a low lying bush before two guards crested the curved bridge that connected the guest island to the royal palace property. She held her breath as they passed.

_Was that you Markos?_

_Yes._

She could actually feel his mind touching hers now, cold as stone and just as sturdy she latched on to it.

_What's going on?_

_The Emperor gave orders to have you killed_.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she already knew this, but it still hurt to have him confirm it.

_I killed them, Markos_. _I killed those soldiers._

_I know._

She tried to keep her mind silent for a moment, trying to his her guilt from a man who was currently _in_ her mind. It didn't work. Her body started to shake, wracked with sobs for the men who would never see their families again because of her. Markos let her grieve as long as he could.

_Those other guards will find them soon_.

She didn't care. She'd deserve it.

_If you die now, you'll never know what your life was for_.


End file.
